A  Man 

for  the  Ages 
By  Irving  Bacheller 

Author  of  The  Light  in  the  Gearing 


LINCOLN  ROOM 

UNIVERSITY  OF  ILLINOIS 
LIBRARY 


MEMORIAL 

the  Class  of  1901 

founded  by 

HARLAN  HOYT  HORNER 

and 
HENRIETTA  CALHOUN  HORNER 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

A  Story  of  the  Builders  of 
Democracy 

By 

IRVING  BACHELLER 


Author  of 

tfben  Holden,  The  Light  in  the  Clearing 
etc. 


ILLUSTRATED  BY 

JOHN  WOLCOTT  ADAMS 


INDIANAPOLIS 

THE  BOBBS-MERRILL  COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS 


COPYRIGHT  1919 
THE  RIDGWAY  COMPANY 

COPYRIGHT  1919 
IRVING  BACHELLER 


Printed  in  the  United  States  of  Americ* 


PRtSS  OF 

BRAUNWORTH  <L  CO. 

BOOK    MANUFACTURERS 

BROOKLYN,    N.  V. 


fl/1 


TO 

MY  DEAR  FRIEND  AND  COMRADE 
f* 

ALEXANDER  GROSSET 

W 

V^ 

I  DEDICATE  THIS  BOOK  IN 

TOKEN  OF  MY  ESTEEM 

r^ 
lo 


J 


A  Letter 


TO  THE  AGED  AND  HONORABLE  JOSIAH  TRAYLOR  FROM 
HIS  GRANDSON,  A  SOLDIER  IN  FRANCE,  WHEREIN 
THE  MOTIVE  AND  INSPIRATION  OF  THIS  NARRATIVE 
ARE  BRIEFLY  PRESENTED. 


In  France,  September  10, 
Dear  Grandfather: 

At  last  I  have  got  mine.  I  had  been  scampering 
towards  the  stars,  like  a  jack-rabbit  chased  by  barking 
greyhounds,  when  a  shrapnel  shell  caught  up  with  me. 
It  sneezed  all  over  my  poor  bus,  and  tlwew  some  junk 
into  me  as  if  it  thought  me  nothing  better  than  a  kind 
of  waste  basket.  Seems  as  if  it  had  got  tired  of  car- 
rying its  load  and  wanted  to  put  it  on  me.  It  suc- 
ceeded famously  but  I  got  home  with  the  bus.  Since 
then  they  have  been  taking  sinkers  and  fish  hooks  out 
of  me  fit  only  for  deep  water.  Don't  worry,  I'm  get- 
ting better  fast.  I  shall  play  no  more  football  and 
you  will  not  see  me  pitching  curves  and  running  bases 
again.  No,  I  shall  sit  in  the  grandstand  myself  here- 
after and  there  will  not  be  so  much  of  me  but  I  shall 
have  quite  a  shuck  on  my  soul  for  all  that,  I've  done 
a  lot  of  thinking  since  I  have  been  lying  on  my  back 
with  nothing  else  to  do.  When  your  body  gets  kind 
of  turned  over  in  the  ditch  it's  wonderful  how  your 


A  LETTER 

All  these  and  many  other  things  which  you  have 
said  to  me,  dear  grandfatlier,  have  helped  me  to  un- 
derstand this  great  thunderous  drama  in  which  I  have 
liad  a  part.  They  liave  helped  me  to  endure  its  perils 
and  bitter  defeats.  It  was  you  who  saw  clearly  from 
the  first  that  this  was  the  final  clash  between  the  bond 
and  the  free — an  effort  of  the  great  house  of  God  to 
purge  itself,  and  you  urged  me  to  go  to  Canada  and 
enlist  in  the  struggle.  For  this,  too,  I  thank  you.  My 
wounds  are  dear  to  me,  knowing,  as  you  have  made  me 
know,  that  I  have  come  well  by  them  fighting  not  in 
the  interest  of  Great  Britain  or  France  or  Russia,  but 
in  the  cause  of  humanity.  It  is  strange  that  among 
these  men  who  are  fighting  with  me  I  have  found  only 
one  or  two  who  seem  to  have  a  vision  of  the  whole 
truth  of  this  business. 

Now  I  come  to  the  point  of  my  letter.  I  have  an 
enlistment  to  urge  upon  you  in  the  cause  of  humanity 
and  there  are  no  wounds  to  go  with  it.  When  I  come 
home,  as  I  shall  be  doing  as  soon  as  I  am  sufficiently 
mended,  we  must  go  to  work  on  the  story  of  your  life 
so  that  all  who  wish  to  do  so  may  know  it  as  I  know  it. 
Let  us  go  to  it  with  all  the  diaries  that  you  and  your 
father  kept,  aided  by  your  memory,  and  give  to  the 
world  its  first  full  view  of  the  heart  and  soul  of  Lin- 
coln. I  have  read  all  the  biographies  and  anecdotes  of 
him  and  yet  without  the  story  as  you  tell  it  he  would 
have  been  a  stranger  to  me.  After  this  war,  if  I  mis- 


A  LETTER 

take  not,  Democracy  will  command  the  interest  of  all 
men.  It  will  be  the  theme  of  themes.  You  tell  me 
that  we  shall  soon  get  into  the  struggle  and  turn  the 
scale.  Well,  if  we  do,  we  shall  have  to  demonstrate  a 
swiftness  of  preparation  and  a  power  in  the  field  which 
will  astonish  the  world,  and  when  it  is  all  over  the 
world  will  want  to  know  how  this  potent  Democracy 
of  ours  came  about.  The  one  name — Lincoln — with 
the  background  of  your  story,  especially  the  back- 
ground, for  the  trouble  with  all  the  biographies  is  a 
lack  of  background — will  be  the  best  answer  we  could 
give  I  think.  Of  course  there  are  other  answers,  but, 
as  there  are  few  who  dare  to  doubt,  tliese  days,  that 
Lincoln  is  the  greatest  democrat  since  Jesus  Christ, 
if  we  can  only  present  your  knowledge  to  the  world 
we  should  do  well.  Again  the  great,  crowd,  whom  you 
and  I  desire  to  enlighten  if  we  can,  do  not  read 
biography  or  history  save  under  the  compulsion  of 
the  schools,  so  let  us  try  only  to  tell  the  moving  story 
as  you  have  told  it  to  me,  with  Lincoln  striding  across 
the  scene  or  taking  the  center  of  the  stage  just  as  he 
was  wont  to  do  in  your  recollection  of  him.  Sa  we 
will  make  them  to  know  the  giant  of  Democracy  with- 
out trying. 

Duty  calls.  What  is  your  answer?  Please  let  me 
know  by  cable.  Meanwhile  I  shall  be  thinking  more 
about  it.  With  love  to  all  the  family,  from  your  affec- 
tionate grandson,  R.  L. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

BOOK  ONE 

I  Which  Describes  the  Journey  of  Samson  Henry 
Traylor  and  His  Wife  and  Their  Two  Children 
and  Their  Dog  Sambo  through  the  Adirondack 
Wilderness  in  1831  on  Their  Way  to  the  Land  of 
Plenty,  and  Especially  Their  Adventures  in  Bear 
Valley  and  No  Santa  Claus  Land.  Furthermore, 
It  Describes  the  Soaping  of  the  Brimsteads  and 

the  Capture  of  the  Veiled  Bear 1 

II  Wherein  Is  Recorded  the  Vivid  Impression  Made 
upon  the  Travelers  by  Their  View  of  a  Steam 
Engine  and  of  the  Famous  Erie  Canal.  Wherein, 
Also,  Is  a  Brief  Account  of  Sundry  Curious 
Characters  Met  on  the  Road  and  at  a  Celebration 
of  the  Fourth  of  July  on  the  Big  Waterway  .  31 

III  Wherein  the  Reader  Is  Introduced  to  Offut's  Store 

and  His  Clerk  Abe,  and  the  Scholar  Jack  Kelso 
and  His  Cabin  and  His  Daughter  Bim,  and  Gets 
a  First  Look  at  Lincoln 46 

IV  Which   Presents   Other   Log   Cabin   Folk   and   the 

First  Steps  in  the  Making  of  a  New  Home  and 
Certain  Incapacities  of  Abe 63 


CONTENTS— Continued 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

V    In  Which  the  Character  of  Bim  Kelso  Flashes  Out 
in  a  Strange  Adventure  that  Begins  the  Weaving 

of  a  Long  Thread  of  Romance 80 

VI    Which  Describes  the  Lonely  Life  in  a  Prairie  Cabin 
and  a   Stirring  Adventure  on  the  Underground 
Railroad  about  the  Time  It  Began  Operations     .     106 
VII     In    Which    Mr.    Eliphalet    Biggs    Gets    Acquainted 

with  Bim  Kelso  and  Her  Father 122 

VIII  Wherein  Abe  Makes  Sundry  Wise  Remarks  to  the 
Boy  Harry  and  Announces  His  Purpose  to  Be  a 
Candidate  for  the  Legislature  at  Kelso's  Dinner 

Party 134 

IX  In  Which  Bim  Kelso  Makes  History,  While  Abe 
and  Harry  and  Other  Good  Citizens  of  New 
Salem  Are  Making  an  Effort  to  that  End  in  the 

Indian  War 151 

BOOK  TWO 
X    In   Which   Abe   and   Samson   Wrestle   and   Some 

Raiders  Come  to  Burn  and  Stay  to  Repent    .     .     168 
XI    In  Which  Abe,  Elected  to  the  Legislature,  Gives 
What  Comfort  He  Can  to  Ann  Rutledgc  in  the 
Beginning  of  Her   Sorrows.    Also  He  Goes  to 
Springfield  for  New  Clothes  and  Is  Astonished  by 

Its  Pomp  and  the  Change  in  Eli 184 

XII    Which  Continues  the  Romance  of  Abe  and  Ann 
until  the  Former  Leaves  New  Salem  to  Begin  His 


CONTENTS— Continued 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

Work  in  the  Legislature.  Also  It  Describes  the 
Coloneling  of  Peter  Lukins 206 

XIII  Wherein  the  Route  of  the  Underground  Railroad 

Is  Surveyed  and  Samson  and  Harry  Spend  a 
Night  in  the  Home  of  Henry  Brimstead  and  Hear 
Surprising  Revelations,  Confidentially  Disclosed, 
and  Are  Charmed  by  the  Personality  of  His 
Daughter  Annabel 215 

XIV  In  Which  Abe  Returns  from  Vandalia  and  Is  En- 

gaged to  Ann,  and  Three  Interesting  Slaves  Ar- 
rive at  the  Home  of  Samson  Traylor,  Who,  with 
Harry  Needles,  Has  an  Adventure  of  Much  Im- 
portance on  the  Underground  Road  ....  230 
XV  Wherein  Harry  and  Abe  Ride  Up  to  Springdale 
and  Visit  Kelso's  and  Learn  of  the  Curious  Lone- 

someness  of  Eliphalet  Biggs 249 

XVI  Wherein  Young  Mr.  Lincoln  Safely  Passes  Two 
Great  Danger  Points  and  Turns  into  the  High- 
way of  His  Manhood 265 

BOOK  THREE 

XVII  Wherein  Young  Mr.  Lincoln  Betrays  Ignorance  of 
Two  Highly  Important  Subjects,  in  Consequence 
of  Which  He  Begins  to  Suffer  Serious  Embar- 
rassment   273 

XVIII  In  Which  Mr.  Lincoln,  Samson  and  Harry  Take  a 
Long  Ride  Together  and  the  Latter  Visit  the 
Flourishing  Little  City  of  Chicago 283 


CONTENTS— Continued 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XIX  Wherein  Is  One  of  the  Many  Private  Panics  Which 
Followed  the  Bursting  of  the  Bubble  of  Specula- 
tion   315 

XX  Which  Tells  of  the  Settling  of  Abe  Lincoln  and  the 
Traylors  in  the  Village  of  Springfield  and  of 
Samson's  Second  Visit  to  Chicago 325 

XXI  Wherein  a  Remarkable  School  of  Political  Science 
Begins  Its  Sessions  in  the  Rear  of  Joshua  Speed's 
Store.  Also  at  Samson's  Fireside  Honest  Abe 
Talks  of  the  Authority  of  the  Law  and  the  Right 
of  Revolution,  and  Later  Brings  a  Suit  against 

Lionel  Davis 353 

XXII  Wherein  Abe  Lincoln  Reveals  His  Method  of  Con- 
ducting a  Lawsuit  in  the  Case  of  Henry  Brim- 
stead  et  al.  vs.  Lionel  Davis 363 

XXIII  Which  Presents  the  Pleasant  Comedy  of  Individ- 

ualism in  the  New  Capital,  and  the  Courtship  of 
Lincoln  and  Mary  Todd 374 

XXIV  Which  Describes  a  Pleasant  Holiday  and  a  Pretty 

Stratagem 392 

XXV  Being  a  Brief  Memoir  by  the  Honorable  and  Ven- 
erable Man  Known  in  These  Pages  as  Josiah 
Traylor,  Who  Saw  the  Great  Procession  of 
Events  between  Andrew  Jackson  and  Woodrow 
Wilson  and  Especially  the  Making  and  the  End 
of  Lincoln  403 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 


A  Man  for  the  Ages 

BOOK  ONE 

CHAPTER  I 

WHICH  DESCRIBES  THE  JOURNEY  OF  SAMSON  HENRY 
TRAYLOR  AND  HIS  WIFE  AND  THEIR  TWO  CHILDREN 
AND  THEIR  DOG  SAMBO  THROUGH  THE  ADIRONDACK 
WILDERNESS  IN  183!  ON  THEIR  WAY  TO  THE  LAND 
OF  PLENTY,  AND  ESPECIALLY  THEIR  ADVENTURES 
IN  BEAR  VALLEY  AND  NO  SANTA  CLAUS  LAND. 
FURTHERMORE,  IT  DESCRIBES  THE  SOAPING  OF  THE 
BRIMSTEADS  AND  THE  CAPTURE  OF  THE  VEILED 
BEAR. 

IN  the  early  summer  of  1831  Samson  Traylor  and 
his  wife,  Sarah,  and  two  children  left  their  old  home 
near  the  village  of  Vergennes,  Vermont,  and  began 
their  travels  toward  the  setting  sun  with  four  chairs, 
a  bread  board  and  rolling-pin,  a  feather  bed  and 
blankets,  a  small  looking-glass,  a  skillet,  an  axe,  a  pack 
basket  with  a  pad  of  sole  leather  on  the  same,  a  water 
pail,  a  box  of  dishes,  a  tub  of  salt  pork,  a  rifle,  a  tea- 
pot, a  sack  of  meal,  sundry  small  provisions  and  a 
violin,  in  a  double  wagon  drawn  by  oxen.  It  is  a 
pleasure  to  note  that  they  had  a  violin  and  were  not 

i 


2  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

disposed  to  part  with  it.  The  reader  must  not  overlook 
its  full  historic  significance.  The  stern,  uncompromis- 
ing spirit  of  the  Puritan  had  left  the  house  of  the 
Yankee  before  a  violin  could  enter  it.  Humor  and 
the  love  of  play  had  preceded  and  cleared  a  way  for 
it.  Where  there  was  a  fiddle  there  were  cheerful 
hearts.  A  young  black  shepherd  dog  with  tawny  points 
and  the  name  of  Sambo  followed  the  wagon  or  ex- 
plored the  fields  and  woods  it  passed. 

If  we  had  been  at  the  Congregational  Church  on 
Sunday  we  might  have  heard  the  minister  saying  to 
Samson,  after  the  service,  that  it  was  hard  to  under- 
stand why  the  happiest  family  in  the  parish  and  the 
most  beloved  should  be  leaving  its  ancestral  home  to 
go  to  a  far,  new  country  of  which  little  was  known. 
We  might  also  have  heard  Samson  answer : 

"It's  awful  easy  to  be  happy  here.  We  slide  along 
in  the  same  old  groove,  that  our  fathers  traveled,  from 
Vergennes  to  Paradise.  We  work  and  play  and  go 
to  meetin'  and  put  a  shin  plaster  in  the  box  and  grow 
old  and  narrow  and  stingy  and  mean  and  go  up  to 
glory  and  are  turned  into  saints  and  angels.  Maybe 
that's  the  best  thing  that  could  happen  to  us,  but  Sarah 
and  I  kind  o'  thought  we'd  try  a  new  starting  place 
and  another  route  to  Heaven." 

Then  we  might  have  seen  the  countenance  of  the 
minister  assume  a  grave  and  troubled  look.  "Samson, 
you  must  not  pull  down  the  pillars  of  this  temple,"  he 
said. 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  3 

"No,  it  has  done  too  much  for  me.  I  love  its  faults 
even.  But  we  have  been  called  and  must  go.  A  great 
empire  is  growing  up  in  the  West  We  want  to  see  it; 
we  want  to  help  build  it." 

The  minister  had  acquired  a  sense  of  humor  among 
those  Yankees.  Years  later  in  his  autobiography  he 
tells  how  deeply  the  words  of  Samson  had  impressed 
him.  He  had  answered : 

"Think  of  us.  I  don't  know  what  we  shall  do  with- 
out your  fun  and  the  music  of  your  laugh  at  the 
pleasure  parties.  In  addition  to  being  the  best  wrestler 
in  the  parish  you  are  also  its  most  able  and  sonorous 
laugher." 

"Yes,  Sarah  and  I  have  got  the  laughing  habit.  I 
guess  we  need  a  touch  of  misery  to  hold  us  down.  But 
you  will  have  other  laughers.  The  seed  has  been 
planted  here  and  the  soil  is  favorable." 

Samson  knew  many  funny  stories  and  could  tell 
them  well.  His  heart  was  as  merry  as  The  Fisher's 
Hornpipe.  He  used  to  say  that  he  got  the  violin  to 
help  him  laugh,  as  he  found  his  voice  failing  under  the 
strain. 

Sarah  and  Samson  had  been  raised  on  adjoining 
farms  just  out  of  the  village.  He  had  had  little  school- 
ing, but  his  mind  was  active  and  well  inclined.  Sarah 
had  prosperous  relatives  in  Boston  and  had  had  the 
advantage  of  a  year's  schooling  in  that  city.  She  was 
a  comely  girl  of  a  taste  and  refinement  unusual  in  the 
place  and  time  of  her  birth.  Many  well  favored  youths 


4  A:  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

had  sought  her  hand,  but,  better  than  others,  she  liked 
the  big,  masterful,  good-natured,  humorous  Samson, 
crude  as  he  was.  Naturally  in  her  hands  his  timber 
had  undergone  some  planing  and  smoothing  and  his 
thought  had  been  gently  led  into  new  and  pleasant 
ways.  Sarah's  Uncle  Rogers  in  Boston  had  kept  them 
supplied  with  some  of  the  best  books  and  magazines 
of  the  time.  These  they  had  read  aloud  with  keen 
enjoyment.  Moreover,  they  remembered  what  they 
read  and  cherished  and  thought  about  it. 

Let  us  take  a  look  at  them  as  they  slowly  leave  the 
village  of  their  birth.  The  wagon  is  covered  with  tent 
cloth  drawn  over  hickory  arches.  They  are  sitting  on 
a  seat  overlooking  the  oxen  in  the  wagon  front.  Tears 
are  streaming  down  the  face  of  the  woman.  The  man's 
head  is  bent.  His  elbows  are  resting  on  his  knees ;  the 
hickory  handle  of  his  ox  whip  lies  across  his  lap,  the 
lash  at  his  feet.  He  seems  to  be  looking  down  at  his 
boots,  into  the  tops  of  which  his  trousers  have  been 
folded.  He  is  a  rugged,  blond,  bearded  man  with 
kindly  blue  eyes  and  a  rather  prominent  nose.  There 
is  a  striking  expression  of  power  in  the  head  and 
shoulders  of  Samson  Traylor.  The  breadth  of  his 
back,  the  size  of  his  wrists  and  hands,  the  color  of 
his  face  betoken  a  man  of  great  strength.  This 
thoughtful,  sorrowful  attitude  is  the  only  evidence  of 
emotion  which  he  betrays.  In  a  few  minutes  he  begins 
to  whistle  a  lively  tune. 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  5 

The  boy  Josiah — familiarly  called  Joe — sits  beside 
his  mother.  He  is  a  slender,  sweet-faced  lad.  He  is 
looking  up  wistfully  at  his  mother.  The  little  girl 
Betsey  sits  between  him  and  her  father. 

That  evening  they  stopped  at  the  house  of  an  old 
friend  some  miles  up  the  dusty  road  to  the  north. 

"Here  we  are — goin'  west,"  Samson  shouted  to  the 
man  at  the  door-step. 

He  alighted  and  helped  his  family  out  of  the  wagon. 

"You  go  right  in — I'll  take  care  o'  the  oxen,"  said 
the  man. 

Samson  started  for  the  house  with  the  girl  under 
one  arm  and  the  boy  under  the  other.  A  pleasant-faced 
woman  greeted  them  with  a  hearty  welcome  at  the 
door. 

"You  poor  man!    Come  right  in,"  she  said. 

"Poor !  I'm  the  richest  man  in  the  world,"  said  he. 
"Look  at  the  gold  on  that  girl's  head — curly,  fine  gold, 
too — the  best  there  is.  She's  Betsey — my  little  toy 
woman — half  past  seven  years  old — blue  eyes — helps 
her  mother  get  tired  every  day.  Here's  my  toy  man 
Josiah — yes,  brown  hair  and  brown  eyes  like  Sarah — 
heart  o'  gold — helps  his  mother,  too — six  times  one 
year  old." 

"What  pretty  faces !"  said  the  woman  as  she  stooped 
and  kissed  them. 

"Yes,  ma'am.  Got  'em  from  the  fairies,"  Samson 
on.  "They  have  all  kinds  o'  heads  for  little  folks, 


6  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

an'  I  guess  they  color  'em  up  with  the  blood  o'  roses  an' 
the  gold  o'  buttercups  an'  the  blue  o'  violets.  Here's 
this  wife  o'  mine.  She's  richer'n  I  am.  She  owns  all 
of  us.  We're  her  slaves." 

"Looks  as  young  as  she  did  the  day  she  was  married 
— nine  years  ago,"  said  the  woman. 

"Exactly !"  Samson  exclaimed.  "Straight  as  an  ar- 
row and  proud !  I  don't  blame  her.  She's  got  enough 
to  make  her  proud  I  say.  I  fall  in  love  again  every 
time  I  look  into  her  big,  brown  eyes." 

The  talk  and  laughter  brought  the  dog  into  the 
house. 

"There's  Sambo,  our  camp  follower,"  said  Samson. 
"He  likes  us,  one  and  all,  but  he  often  feels  sorry  for 
us  because  we  can  not  feel  the  joy  that  lies  in  buried 
bones  and  the  smell  of  a  liberty  pole  or  a  gate  post." 

They  had  a  joyous  evening  and  a  restful  night  with 
these  old  friends  and  resumed  their  journey  soon  after 
daylight.  They  ferried  across  the  lake  at  Burlington 
and  fared  away  over  the  mountains  and  through  the 
deep  forest  on  the  Chateaugay  trail. 

Since  the  Pilgrims  landed  between  the  measureless 
waters  and  the  pathless  wilderness  they  and  their 
descendants  had  been  surrounded  by  the  lure  of  mys- 
teries. It  filled  the  imagination  of  the  young  with 
gleams  of  golden  promise.  The  love  of  adventure, 
the  desire  to  explore  the  dark,  infested  and  beautiful 
forest,  the  dream  of  fruitful  sunny  lands  cut  with 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  7 

water  courses,  shored  with  silver  and  strewn  with  gold 
beyond  it — these  were  the  only  heritage  of  their  sons 
and  daughters  save  the  strength  and  courage  of  the 
pioneer.  How  true  was  this  dream  of  theirs  gathering 
detail  and  allurement  as  it  passed  from  sire  to  son! 
On  distant  plains  to  the  west  were  lands  more  lovely 
and  fruitful  than  any  of  their  vision ;  in  mountains  far 
beyond  was  gold  enough  to  gild  the  dome  of  the 
heavens,  as  the  sun  was  wont  to  do  at  eventide,  and 
silver  enough  to  put  a  fairly  respectable  moon  in  it. 
Yet  for  generations  their  eyes  were  not  to  see,  their 
hands  were  not  to  touch  these  things.  They  were  only 
to  push  their  frontier  a  little  farther  to  the  west  and 
hold  the  dream  and  pass  it  on  to  their  children. 

Those  early  years  of  the  nineteenth  century  held  the 
first  days  of  fulfillment  Samson  and  Sarah  Traylor 
had  the  old  dream  in  their  hearts  when  they  first  turned 
their  faces  to  the  West.  For  years  Sarah  had  resisted 
it,  thinking  of  the  hardships  and  perils  in  the  way  of 
the  mover.  Samson,  a  man  of  twenty-nine  when  he 
set  out  from  his  old  home,  was  said  to  be  "always 
chasing  the  bird  in  the  bush."  He  was  never  content 
with  the  thing  in  hand.  There  were  certain  of  their 
friends  who  promised  to  come  and  join  them  when,  at 
last,  they  should  have  found  the  land  of  plenty.  But 
most  of  the  group  that  bade  them  good-by  thought  it 
a  foolish  enterprise  and  spoke  lightly  of  Samson  when 
they  were  gone.  America  has  undervalued  the  brave 


8 

souls  who  went  west  in  wagons,  without  whose  sublime 
courage  and  endurance  the  plains  would  still  be  an 
unplowed  wilderness.  Often  we  hear  them  set  down 
as  seedy,  shiftless  dreamers  who  could  not  make  a 
living  at  home.  They  were  mostly  the  best  blood  of 
the  world  and  the  noblest  of  God's  missionaries.  Who 
does  not  honor  them  above  the  thrifty,  comfort  loving 
men  and  women  who  preferred  to  stay  at  home,  where 
risks  were  few,  the  supply  of  food  sure  and  sufficient 
and  the  consolations  of  friendship  and  religion  always 
at  hand.  Samson  and  Sarah  preferred  to  enlist  and 
take  their  places  in  the  front  battle  line  of  Civilization. 

They  had  read  a  little  book  called  The  Country  of 
the  Sangamon.  The  latter  was  a  word  of  the  Potta- 
watomies  meaning  land  of  plenty.  It  was  the  name  of  a 
river  in  Illinois  draining  "boundless,  flowery  meadows 
of  unexampled  beauty  and  fertility,  belted  with  timber, 
blessed  with  shady  groves,  covered  with  game  and 
mostly  level,  without  a  stick  or  a  stone  to  vex  the 
plowman."  Thither  they  were  bound  to  take  up  a 
section  of  government  land. 

They  stopped  for  a  visit  with  Elisha  Howard  and 
his  wife,  old  friends  of  theirs,  who  lived  in  the  village 
of  Malone,  which  was  in  Franklin  County,  New  York. 
There  they  traded  their  oxen  for  a  team  of  horses. 
They  were  large  gray  horses  named  Pete  and  Colonel. 
The  latter  was  fat  and  good-natured.  His  chief  in- 
terest in  life  was  food.  Pete  was  always  looking  for 


food  and  perils.  Colonel  was  the  near  horse.  Now 
and  then  Samson  threw  a  sheepskin  over  his  back  and 
put  the  boy  on  it  and  tramped  along  within  arm's  reach 
of  Joe's  left  leg.  This  was  a  great  delight  to  the  little 
lad. 

They  proceeded  at  a  better  pace  to  the  Black  River 
country,  toward  which,  in  the  village  of  Canton,  they 
tarried  again  for  a  visit  with  Captain  Moody  and  Silas 
Wright,  both  of  whom  had  taught  school  in  the  town 
of  Vergennes. 

They  proceeded  through  DeKalb,  Richville  and 
Gouverneur  and  Antwerp  and  on  to  the  Sand  Plains. 
They  had  gone  far  out  of  their  way  for  a  look  at 
these  old  friends  of  theirs. 

Every  day  the  children  would  ask  many  questions, 
as  they  rode  along,  mainly  about  the  beasts  and  birds 
in  the  dark  shadows  of  the  forest  through  which  they 
passed.  These  were  answered  patiently  by  their  father 
and  mother  and  every  answer  led  to  other  queries. 

"You're  a  funny  pair,"  said  their  father  one  day. 
"You  have  to  turn  over  every  word  we  say  to  see 
what's  under  it.  I  used  to  be  just  like  ye,  used  to  go 
out  in  the  lot  and  tip  over  every  stick  and  stone  I  could 
lift  to  see  the  bugs  and  crickets  run.  You're  always 
hopin'  to  see  a  bear  or  a  panther  or  a  fairy  run  out 
from  under  my  remarks." 

"Wonder  why  we  don't  see  no  bears?"  Joe  asked. 

"  'Cause  they  always  see  us  first  or  hear  us  comin','? 


io  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

said  his  father.  "If  you're  goin'  to  see  ol'  Uncle  Bear 
ye  got  to  pay  the  price  of  admission." 

"What's  that?"  Joe  asked. 

"Got  to  go  still  and  careful  so  you'll  see  him  first. 
If  this  old  wagon  didn't  talk  so  loud  and  would  kind 
o'  go  on  its  tiptoes  maybe  we'd  see  him.  He  don't 
like  to  be  seen.  Seems  so  he  was  kind  o'  shamed  of 
himself,  an'  I  wouldn't  wonder  if  he  was.  He's  done 
a  lot  o'  things  to  be  'shamed  of." 

"What's  he  done?"  Joe  asked. 

"Ketched  sheep  and  pigs  and  fawns  and  run  off  with 
'em." 

"What  does  he  do  with  'em?" 

"Eats  'em  up.  Now  you  quit  Here's  a  lot  o'  rocks 
and  mud  and  I  got  to  'tend  to  business.  You  tackle 
yer  mother  and  chase  her  up  and  down  the  hills  a  while 
and  let  me  get  my  breath." 

Samson's  diary  tells  how,  at  the  top  of  the  long, 
steep  hills  he  used  to  cut  a  small  tree  by  the  roadside 
and  tie  its  butt  to  the  rear  axle  and  hang  on  to  its 
branches  while  his  wife  drove  the  team.  This  held 
their  load,  making  an  effective  brake. 

Traveling  through  the  forest,  as  they  had  been  do- 
ing for  weeks,  while  the  day  waned,  they  looked  for  a 
brookside  on  which  they  could  pass  the  night  with 
water  handy.  Samson  tethered,  fed  and  watered  their 
horses,  and  while  Sarah  and  the  children  built  a  fire 
and  made  tea  and  biscuits,  he  was  getting  bait  and 
catching  fish  in  the  stream. 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  n 

"In  a  few  minutes  from  the  time  I  wet  my  hook  a 
mess  of  trout  would  be  dressed  and  sizzling,  with  a 
piece  of  salt  pork,  in  the  pan,  or  it  was  a  bad  day  for 
fishing,"  he  writes. 

After  supper  the  wagon  was  partly  unloaded,  the 
feather  bed  laid  upon  the  planks  under  the  wagon 
roof  and  spread  with  blankets.  Then  Samson  sang 
songs  and  told  stories  or  played  upon  the  violin  to 
amuse  the  family.  The  violin  invariably  woke  the 
birds  in  the  tree-tops,  and  some,  probably  thrushes  or 
warblers  or  white  throated  sparrows,  began  twittering. 
Now  and  then  one  would  express  his  view  of  the  dis- 
turbance with  a  little  phrase  of  song.  Often  the  player 
paused'to  hear  these  musical  whispers  "up  in  the  gal- 
lery," as  he  was  wont  to  call  it 

Often  if  the  others  were  weary  and  depressed  he 
would  dance  merrily  around  the  fire,  playing  a  lively 
tune,  with  Sambo  glad  to  lend  a  helping  foot  and  much 
noise  to  the  program.  If  mosquitos  and  flies  were 
troublesome  Samson  built  smudges,  filling  their  camp 
with  the  smoky  incense  of  dead  leaves,  in  which  often 
the  flavor  of  pine  and  balsam  was  mingled.  By  and  by 
the  violin  was  put  away  and  all  knelt  by  the  fire  while 
Sarah  prayed  aloud  for  protection  through  the  night. 
So  it  will  be  seen  that  they  carried  with  them  their 
own  little  theater,  church  and  hotel. 

Soon  after  darkness  fell,  Sarah  and  the  children  lay 
down  for  the  night,  while  Samson  stretched  out  with 
his  blankets  by  the  fire  in  good  weather,  the  loaded 


12  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

musket  and  the  dog  Sambo  lying  beside  him.  Often 
the  howling  of  wolves  in  the  distant  forest  kept  them 
awake,  and  the  dog  muttering  and  barking  for  hours. 

Samson  woke  the  camp  at  daylight  and  a  merry  song 
Was  his  reveille  while  he  led  the  horses  to  their  drink. 

"Have  a  good  night  ?"  Sarah  would  ask. 

"Perfect !"  he  was  wont  to  answer.  "But  when  the 
smudges  went  out  the  mosquiters  got  to  peckin'  my 
face." 

"Mine  feels  like  a  pincushion,"  Sarah  would  often 
answer.  "Will  you  heat  up  a  little  water  for  us  to 
wash  with  ?" 

"You  better  believe  I  will.  Two  more  hedge  hogs 
last  night,  but  Sambo  let  'em  alone." 

Sambo  had  got  his  mouth  sored  by  hedge  hogs 
some  time  before  and  had  learned  better  than  to  have 
any  fuss  with  them. 

When  they  set  out  in  the  morning  Samson  was  wont 
to  say  to  the  little  lad,  who  generally  sat  beside  him: 
"Well,  my  boy,  what's  the  good  word  this  morning?" 
Whereupon  Joe  would  say,  parrot  like : 

"God  help  us  all  and  make  His  face  to  shine  upon 
us." 

"Well  said!"  his  father  would  answer,  and  so  the 
day's  journey  began. 

Often,  near  its  end,  they  came  to  some  lonely  farm- 
house. Always  Samson  would  stop  and  go  to  the  door 
to  ask  about  the  roads,  followed  by  little  Joe  and 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  13 

Betsey  with  secret  hopes.  One  of  these  hopes  was 
related  to  cookies  and  maple  sugar  and  buttered  bread 
and  had  been  cherished  since  an  hour  of  good  fortune, 
early  in  the  trip  and  encouraged  by  sundry  good- 
hearted  women  along  the  road.  Another  was  the  hope 
of  seeing  a  baby — mainly,  it  should  be  said,  the  hope 
of  Betsey.  Joe's  interest  was  merely  an  echo  of  hers. 
He  regarded  babies  with  an  open  mind,  as  it  were,  for 
the  opinions  of  his  sister  still  had  some  weight  with 
him,  she  being  a  year  and  a  half  older  than  he,  but 
babies  invariably  disappointed  him,  their  capabilities 
being  so  restricted.  To  be  sure,  they  could  make  quite 
a  noise,  and  the  painter  was  said  to  imitate  it, 
but  since  Joe  had  learned  that  they  couldn't  bite 
he  had  begun  to  lose  respect  for  them.  Still,  not 
knowing  what  might  happen,  he  always  took  a  look 
at  every  baby. 

The  children  were  lifted  out  of  the  wagon  to  stretch 
their  legs  at  sloughs  and  houses.  They  were  sure  to 
be  close  behind  the  legs  of  their  father  when  he  stood 
at  a  stranger's  door.  Then,  the  night  being  near,  they 
were  always  invited  to  put  their  horses  in  the  barn  and 
tarry  until  next  morning.  This  was  due  in  part  to 
the  kindly  look  and  voice  of  Samson,  but  mostly  to 
the  wistful  faces  of  the  little  children — a  fact  unsus- 
pected by  their  parents.  What  motherly  heart  could 
resist  the  silent  appeal  of  children's  faces  or  fail  to 
understand  it?  Those  were  memorable  nights  for 


14  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

Sarah  and  Joe  and  Betsey.    In  a  letter  to  her  brother 
the  woman  said : 

"You  don't  know  how  good  it  seemed  to  see  a 
woman  and  talk  to  her,  and  we  talked  and  talked 
until  midnight,  after  all  the  rest  were  asleep.  She  let 
me  hold  the  baby  in  my  lap  until  it  was  put  to  bed. 
How  good  it  felt  to  have  a  little  warm  body  in  my 
arms  again  and  feel  it  breathing!  In  all  my  life  I 
never  saw  a  prettier  baby.  It  felt  good  to  be  in  a  real 
house  and  sleep  in  a  soft,  warm  bed  and  to  eat  jelly 
and  cookies  and  fresh  meat  and  potatoes  and  bread  and 
butter.  Samson  played  for  them  and  kept  them  laugh- 
ing with  his  stories  until  bedtime.  They  wouldn't  take 
a  cent  and  gave  us  a  dozen  eggs  in  a  basket  and  a 
piece  of  venison  when  we  went  away.  Their  name  is 
Sanford  and  I  have  promised  to  write  to  them.  They 
are  good  Christian  folks  and  they  say  that  maybe  they 
will  join  us  in  the  land  of  plenty  if  we  find  it  all  we 
expect." 

They  had  two  rainy,  cold  days,  with  a  northeast 
wind  blowing  and  deep  mud  in  the  roads.  The  chil- 
dren complained  of  the  cold.  After  a  few  miles'  travel 
they  stopped  at  an  old  hunter's  camp  facing  a  great 
mossy  rock  near  the  road. 

"Guess  we'll  stop  here  for  a  visit,"  said  Samson. 

"Who  we  goin'  to  visit?"  Joe  asked. 

"The  trees  and  the  fairies,"  said  his  father.  "Don't 
ye  hear  'em  askin'  us  to  stop?  They  say  the  wind  is 
blowin'  bad  an'  that  we'd  better  stop  an'  make  some 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  15 

good  weather.  They  offer  us  a  house  and  a  roof  to 
cover  it  and  some  wood  to  burn.  I  guess  we'll  be  able 
to  make  our  own  sunshine  in  a  few  minutes." 

Samson  peeled  some  bark  and  repaired  the  roof  and, 
with  his  flint  and  tinder  and  some  fat  pine,  built  a  roar- 
ing fire  against  the  rock  and  soon  had  his  family  sit- 
ting, in  its  warm  glow,  under  shelter.  Near  by  was 
another  rude  framework  of  poles  set  in  crotches 
partly  covered  with  bark  which,  with  a  little  repairing, 
made  a  sufficient  shelter  for  Pete  and  Colonel.  Down 
by  a  little  brook  a  few  rods  away  he  cut  some  balsams 
and  returned  presently  with  his  arms  full  of  the  frag- 
rant boughs.  These  he  dried  in  the  heat  of  the  fin» 
and  spread  in  a  thick  mat  on  the  ground  under  the 
lean-to.  It  was  now  warm  with  heat,  reflected  from 
the  side  of  the  great  rock  it  faced.  The  light  of  the 
leaping  flames  fell  upon  the  travelers. 

"Ye  see  ye  can  make  yer  own  weather  and  fill  it 
with  sunshine  if  ye  only  know  how,"  said  Samson, 
as  he  sat  down  and  brushed  a  coal  out  of  the  ashes  and 
swiftly  picked  it  up  with  his  fingers  and  put  it  into  the 
bowl  of  his  clay  pipe.  "Mother  and  I  read  in  a  book 
that  the  wood  was  full  o'  sunlight  all  stored  up  and 
ready  for  us  to  use.  Ye  just  set  it  afire  and  out  comes 
the  warm  sunlight  for  days  like  this.  God  takes  pretty 
good  care  of  us — don't  He?" 

The  heat  of  other  fires  had  eaten  away  a  few  inches 
pf  the  base  of  the  rock.  Under  its  overhang  some  one 


16  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

had  written  with  a  black  coal  the  words  "Bear  Valley 
Camp."  On  this  suggestion  the  children  called  for  a 
bear  story,  and  lying  back  on  the  green  mat  of  boughs, 
Samson  told  them  of  the  great  bear  of  Camel's  Hump 
which  his  father  had  slain,  and  many  other  tales  of  the 
wilderness. 

They  lived  two  days  in  this  fragrant,  delightful 
shelter  until  the  storm  had  passed  and  the  last  of  their 
corn  meal  had  been  fed  to  the  horses.  They  were 
never  to  forget  the  comfort  and  the  grateful  odors  of 
their  camp  in  Bear  Valley. 

On  a  warm,  bright  day  in  the  sand  country  after 
the  storm  they  came  to  a  crude,  half  finished,  frame 
house  at  the  edge  of  a  wide  clearing.  The  sand  lay 
in  drifts  on  one  side  of  the  road.  It  had  evidently 
moved  in  the  last  wind.  A  sickly  vegetation  covered 
the  field.  A  ragged,  barefooted  man  and  three  scrawny, 
ill  clad  children  stood  in  the  dooryard.  It  was  noon- 
time. A  mongrel  dog,  with  a  bit  of  the  hound  in  him, 
came  bounding  and  barking  toward  the  wagon  and 
pitched  upon  Sambo  and  quickly  got  the  worst  of  it. 
Sambo,  after  much  experience  in  self-defense,  had 
learned  that  the  best  way  out  of  such  trouble  was  to 
seize  a  leg  and  hang  on.  This  he  did.  The  mongrel 
began  to  yelp.  Samson  lifted  both  dogs  by  the  backs 
of  their  necks,  broke  the  hold  of  Sambo  and  tossed 
aside  the  mongrel,  who  ran  away  whining. 

"That  reminds  me  of  a  bull  that  tackled  a  man  over 
in  Vermont,"  said  he.  "The  man  had  a  club  in  his 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  17 

hand.  He  dodged  and  grabbed  the  bull's  tail  and  beat 
him  all  over  the  lot.  As  the  bull  roared,  the  man  hol- 
lered :  'I'd  like  to  know  who  began  this  fuss  anyway.' ' 

The  stranger  laughed. 

"Is  that  your  house?"  Samson  asked. 

The  man  stepped  nearer  and  answered  in  a  low,  con- 
fidential tone : 

"Say,  mister,  this  is  a  combination  poorhouse  and 
idiot  asylum.  I  am  the  idiot.  These  are  the  poor." 

He  pointed  to  the  children. 

"You  don't  talk  like  an  idiot,"  said  Samson. 

The  man  looked  around  and  leaned  over  the  wheel 
as  if  about  to  impart  a  secret. 

"Say,  I'll  tell  ye,"  he  said  in  a  low  tone.  "A  real, 
first-class  idiot  never  does.  You  ought  to  see  my 
actions." 

"This  land  is  an  indication  that  you're  right,"  Sam- 
son laughed. 

"It  proves  it,"  the  stranger  whispered. 

"Have  you  any  water  here?"  Samson  asked. 

The  stranger  leaned  nearer  and  said  in  his  most  con- 
fidential tone :  "Say,  mister,  it's  about  the  best  in  the 
United  States.  Right  over  yonder  in  the  edge  o'  the 
woods — a  spring — cold  as  ice — Simon-pure  water. 
'Bout  the  only  thing  this  land'll  raise  is  water." 

"This  land  looks  to  me  about  as  valuable  as  so  much' 
sheet  lightnin'  and  I  guess  it  can  move  just  about  as 
quick,"  said  Samson. 

The  stranger  answered  in  a  low  tone :    "Say,  I'll  tell 


i8  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

ye,  it's  a  wild  cow — don't  stand  still  long  'nough 
to  give  ye  time  to  git  anything  out  of  it.  I've  toiled 
and  prayed,  but  it's  hard  to  get  much  out  of  it." 

"Praying  won't  do  this  land  any  good,"  Samson 
answered.  "What  it  need?  is  manure  and  plenty  of  it. 
You  can't  raise  anything  here  but  fleas.  It  isn't  decent 
to  expect  God  to  help  run  a  flea  farm.  He  knows  too 
much  for  that,  and  if  you  keep  it  up  He'll  lose  all 
respect  for  ye.  If  you  were  to  buy  another  farm  and 
bring  it  here  and  put  it  down  on  top  o'  this  one,  you 
could  probably  make  a  living.  I  wouldn't  like  to  live 
where  the  wind  could  dig  my  potatoes." 

Again  the  stranger  leaned  toward  Samson  and  said 
in  a  half-whisper:  "Say,  mister,  I  wouldn't  want  you 
to  mention  it,  but  talkin'  o'  fleas,  I'm  like  a  dog  with 
so  many  of  'em  that  he  don't  have  time  to  eat.  Some- 
body has  got  to  soap  him  or  he'll  die.  You  see,  I 
traded  my  farm  over  in  Vermont  for  five  hundred 
acres  o'  this  sheet  lightnin',  unsight  an'  unseen.  We 
was  all  crazy  to  go  West  an'  here  we  are.  If  it  wasn't 
for  the  deer  an'  the  fish  I  guess  we'd  'a'  starved  to 
death  long  ago." 

"Where  did  ye  come  from  ?" 

"Orwell,  Vermont." 

" What's  yer  name?" 

"Henry  Brimstead,"  the  stranger  whispered. 

"Son  of  Elijah  Brimstead?" 

"Yes,  sir." 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  19 

Samson  took  his  hand  and  shook  it  warmly.  "Well, 
I  declare!"  he  exclaimed.  "Elijah  Brimstead  was  a 
friend  o'  my  father." 

"Who  are  you?"  Brimstead  asked. 

"I'm  one  o'  the  Traylors  o'  Vergennes." 

"My  father  used  to  buy  cattle  of  Henry  Traylor." 

"Henry  was  my  father.  Haven't  you  let  'em  know 
about  your  bad  luck?" 

The  man  resumed  his  tone  of  confidence.  "Say,  I'll 
tell  ye,"  he  answered.  "A  man  that's  as  big  a  fool  as 
I  am  ought  not  to  advertise  it.  A  brain  that  has 
treated  its  owner  as  shameful  as  mine  has  treated  me 
should  be  compelled  to  do  its  own  thinkin'  er  die.  I've 
invented  some  things  that  may  sell.  I've  been  hopin' 
my  luck  would  turn." 

"It'll  turn  when  you  turn  it,"  Samson  assured  him. 

Brimstead  thoughtfully  scuffed  the  sand  with  his 
bare  foot.  In  half  a  moment  he  stepped  to  the  wheel 
ind  imparted  this  secret :  "Say,  mister,  if  you've  any 
more  doubt  o'  my  mental  condition,  I'm  goin'  to  tell 
ye  that  they've  discovered  valuable  ore  in  my  land  two 
miles  back  o'  this  road,  an'  I'm  hopin'  to  make  a  for- 
tune. Don't  that  prove  my  case?" 

"Any  man  that  puts  his  faith  in  the  bowels  of  the 
earth  can  have  my  vote,"  said  Samson. 

Brimstead  leaned  close  to  Samson's  ear  and  said  in 
a  tone  scarcely  audible : 

"My  brother  Robert  has  his  own  idiot  asylum.     It's 


20  A;  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

a  real  handsome  one  an'  he  has  made  it  pay,  but  I 
wouldn't  swap  with  him." 

Samson  smiled,  remembering  that  Robert  had  a 
liquor  store.  "Look  here,  Henry  Brimstead,  we're 
hungry,"  he  said.  "If  ye  furnish  the  water,  we'll 
skirmish  around  for  bread  and  give  ye  as  good  a  din- 
ner as  ye  ever  had  in  yer  life." 

Henry  took  the  horses  to  his  barn  and  watered  and 
fed  them.  Then  he  brought  two  pails  of  water  from 
the  spring.  Meanwhile  Samson  started  a  fire  in  a  grove 
of  small  poplars  by  the  roadside  and  began  broiling 
venison,  and  Sarah  got  out  the  bread  board  and  the 
flour  and  the  rolling-pin  and  the  teapot.  As  she 
waited  for  the  water  she  called  the  three  strange  chil- 
dren to  her  side.  The  oldest  was  a  girl  of  ten,  with 
a  face  uncommonly  refined  and  attractive.  In  spite 
of  her  threadbare  clothes,  she  had  a  neat  and  cleanly 
look  and  gentle  manners.  The  youngest  was  a  boy 
of  four.  They  were  a  pathetic  trio. 

Joe  had  been  telling  them  about  Santa  Claus  and 
showing  them  a  jack-knife  which  had  come  down  the 
chimney  in  his  pack  at  Christmas  time  and  describing 
a  dress  of  his  mother's  that  had  gold  and  silver  buttons 
on  it.  The  little  six-year-old  girl  had  asked  him  many 
questions  about  his  mother  and  had  stood  for  some 
moments  looking  up  into  Sarah's  face.  The  girl  tim- 
idly felt  the  dress  and  hair  of  the  woman  and  touched 
her  wedding  ring. 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  21 

"Come  and  wash  your  faces  and  hands,"  Joe  de- 
manded as  soon  as  the  water  came. 

This  they  did  while  he  poured  from  a  dipper. 

"Nice  people  always  wash  before  they  eat,"  he  re- 
minded them. 

Then  he  showed  them  his  bear  stick,  with  the  as- 
surance that  it  had  killed  a  hedge  hog,  omitting  the 
unimportant  fact  that  his  father  had  wielded  it.  The 
ferocity  of  hedge  hogs  was  a  subject  on  which  he  had 
large  information.  He  told  how  one  of  their  party 
had  come  near  getting  his  skin  sewed  on  a  barn  door. 
A  hedge  hog  had  come  and  asked  Sambo  if  he  would 
have  some  needles.  Sambo  had  never  seen  a  hedge 
hog,  so  he  said  that  he  guessed  he  would. 

Then  the  hedge  hog  said :    "Help  yourself." 

Sambo  went  to  take  some  and  just  got  his  face  full 
of  'em  so  it  looked  like  a  head  o'  barley.  They  had 
to  be  took  out  with  a  pinchers  or  they'd  'a'  sewed  his 
skin  on  to  a  barn  door.  That  was  their  game.  They 
tried  to  sew  everybody's  skin  on  a  barn  door. 

Every  night  the  hedge  hog  came  around  and  said: 
"Needles,  needles,  anybody  want  some  needles." 

Now  Sambo  always  answered:  "No  thank  you, 
I've  had  enough." 

"Where's  your  mother?"  Sarah  asked  of  the  ten- 
year-old  girl. 

"Dead.    Died  when  my  little  brother  was  born." 

"Who  takes  care  of  you  ?" 


22  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

"Father  and — God.  Father  says  God  does  most 
of  it." 

"Oh  dear !"  Sarah  exclaimed,  with  a  look  of  pity. 

They  had  a  good  dinner  of  fresh  biscuit  and  honey 
and  venison  and  eggs  -and  tea.  While  they  were  eat- 
ing Samson  told  Brimstead  of  the  land  of  plenty. 

After  dinner,  while  Brimstead  was  bringing  the 
team,  one  of  his  children,  the  blonde,  pale,  tattered 
little  girl  of  six,  climbed  into  the  wagon  seat  and  sat 
holding  a  small  rag  doll,  which  Sarah'  had  given  her. 
When  they  were  ready  to  go  she  stubbornly  refused 
to  get  down. 

"I'm  goin'  away,"  she  said.  "I'm  goin'  aw-a-ay  off 
to  find  my  mother.  I  don't  like  this  place.  There  ain't 
no  Santa  Claus  here.  I'm  goin'  away." 

She  clung  to  the  wagon  seat  and  cried  loudly  when 
her  father  took  her  down. 

"Ain't  that  enough  to  break  a  man's  heart  ?"  he  said 
with  a  sorrowful  look. 

Then  Samson  turned  to  Brimstead  and  asked : 

"Look  here,  Henry  Brimstead,  are  you  a  drinking 
man  ?  Honor  bright  now." 

"Never  drink  a  thing  but  water  and  tea." 

"Do  you  know  of  anybody  who'll  give  ye  anything 
for  what  you  own  here?" 

"There's  a  man  in  the  next  town  who  offered  me 
three  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  for  my  interest." 

"How  far  is  it?" 

"Three  miles." 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  23 

"Come  along  with  us  and  get  the  money  if  you 
can.  I'll  help  ye  fit  up  and  go  where  ye  can  earn  a 
living." 

"I'd  like  to,  but  my  horse  is  lame  and  I  can't  leave 
the  children." 

"Put  'em  right  in  this  wagon  and  come  on.  If 
there's  a  livery  in  the  place,  I'll  send  ye  home." 

So  the  children  rode  in  the  wagon  and  Samson  and 
Brimstead  walked,  while  Sarah  drove  the  team  to  the 
next  village.  There  the  good  woman  bought  new 
clothes  for  the  whole  Brimstead  family  and  Brimstead 
sold  his  interest  in  the  sand  plains  and  bought  a  good 
pair  of  horses,  with  harness  and  some  cloth  for  a 
wagon  cover,  and  had  fifty  dollars  in  his  pocket  and  a 
new  look  in  his  face.  He  put  his  children  on  the  backs 
of  the  horses  and  led  them  to  his  old  home,  with  a 
sack  of  provisions  on  his  shoulder.  He  was  to  take 
the  track  of  the  Traylors  next  day  and  begin  his  jour- 
ney to  the  shores  of  the  Sangamon. 

Samson  had  asked  about  him  in  the  village  and 
learned  that  he  was  an  honest  man  who  had  suffered 
bad  luck.  A  neighbor's  wife  had  taken  his  children 
for  two  years,  but  bad  health  had  compelled  her  to 
give  them  up. 

"God  does  the  most  of  it,"  Sarah  quoted  from  the 
young  girl,  as  they  rode  on.  "I  guess  He's  saved  'em 
from  the  poorhouse  to-day.  I  hope  they'll  ketch  up 
with  us.  I'd  like  to  look  after  those  children  a  little. 
They  need  a  mother  so." 


24  A1  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

"They'll  ketch  up  all  right,"  said  Samson.  "We're 
loaded  heavier  than  they'll  be  and  goin'  purty  slow. 
They'll  be  leavin'  No  Santa  Claus  Land  to-morrow 
mornin'.  Seems  so  God  spoke  to  me  when  that  girl 
said  there  wa'n't  no  Santa  Claus  there." 

"No  Santa  Claus  Land  is  a  good  name  for  it,"  said 
Sarah. 

They  got  into  a  bad  swale  that  afternoon  and  Sam- 
son had  to  cut  some  corduroy  to  make  a  footing  for 
team  and  wagon  and  do  much  prying  with  the  end 
of  a  heavy  pole  under  the  front  axle.  By  and  by  the 
horses  pulled  them  out 

"When  ol'  Colonel  bends  his  neck  things  have  to 
move,  even  if  he  is  up  to  his  belly  in  the  mud,"  said 
Samson. 

As  the  day  waned  they  came  to  a  river  in  the  deep 
woods.  It  was  an  exquisite  bit  of  forest  with  the  bells 
of  a  hermit  thrush  ringing  in  one  of  its  towers.  Their 
call  and  the  low  song  of  the  river  were  the  only  sounds 
in  the  silence.  The  glow  of  the  setting  sun  which 
lighted  the  western  windows  of  the  forest  had  a  color 
like  that  of  the  music — golden.  Long  shafts  of  it  fell 
through  the  tree  columns  upon  the  road  here  and 
there.  Our  weary  travelers  stopped  on  the  rude  plank 
bridge  that  crossed  the  river.  Odors  of  balsam  and 
pine  and  tamarack  came  in  a  light,  cool  breeze  up  the 
river  valley. 

"It  smells  like  Bear  Valley,"  said  Sarah. 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  25 

"What  was  that  poetry  you  learned  for  the  church 
party?"  Samson  asked. 

"I  guess  the  part  of  it  you're  thinking  of  is : 

'And  west  winds  with  musky  wing 
Down  the  cedarn  alleys  fling 
'Nard  and  Cassia's  balmy  smells.' ' 

"That's  it,"  said  Samson.  "I  guess  we'll  stop  at 
this  tavern  till  to-morrow." 

Joe  was  asleep  and  they  laid  him  on  the  blankets 
until  supper  was  ready. 

Soon  after  supper  Samson  shot  a  deer  which  had 
waded  into  the  rapids.  Fortunately,  it  made  the  op- 
posite shore  before  it  fell.  All  hands  spent  that  eve- 
ning dressing  the  deer  and  jerking  the  best  of  the 
meat.  This  they  did  by  cutting  the  meat  into  strips 
about  the  size  of  a  man's  hand  and  salting  and  laying 
it  on  a  rack,  some  two  feet  above  a  slow  fire,  and  cover- 
ing it  with  green  boughs.  The  heat  and  smoke  dried 
the  meat  in  the  course  of  two  or  three  hours  and  gave 
it  a  fine  flavor.  Delicious  beyond  any  kind  of  meat  is 
venison  treated  in  this  manner.  If  kept  dry,  it 
will  retain  its  flavor  and  its  sweetness  for  a  month 
or  more. 

Samson  was  busy  with  this  process  long  after  the 
others  had  gone  to  bed.  When  it  was  nearly  finished 
he  left  the  meat  on  the  rack,  the  fire  beneath  it  having 
burned  low,  crossed  the  river  to  the  wagon,  got  his 


26  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

blanket,  reloaded  his  gun  and  lay  down  to  sleep  with 
the  dog  beside  him. 

Some  hours  later  he  was  awakened  by  "a  kind  of  a 
bull  beller,"  as  he  described  it.  The  dog  ran  barking 
across  the  river.  Samson  seized  the  gun  and  followed 
him.  The  first  dim  light  of  the  morning  showed 
through  the  tree-tops.  Some  big  animal  was  growling 
and  roaring  and  rolling  over  and  over  in  a  clump  of 
bushes  near  the  meat  rack.  In  half  a  moment  it  rolled 
out  upon  the  open  ground  near  Samson.  The  latter 
could  now  see  that  it  was  a  large  black  bear  engaged 
in  a  desperate  struggle  with  the  pack  basket.  The 
bear  had  forced  his  great  head  into  the  top  of  it  and 
its  hoop  had  got  a  firm  hold  on  his  neck.  He  was 
sniffing  and  growling  and  shaking  his  head  and  strik- 
ing with  both  fore  paws  to  free  himself.  Sambo  had 
laid  hold  of  his  stub  tail  and  the  bear  was  trying  in 
vain  to  reach  him,  with  the  dog  dodging  as  he  held  on. 
The  movements  of  both  were  so  lively  that  Samson 
had  to  step  like  a  dancer  to  keep  clear  of  them.  The 
bear,  in  sore  trouble,  leaped  toward  him  and  the  sway- 
ing basket  touched  the  side  of  the  man.  Back  into 
the  bushes  and  out  again  they  struggled,  Sambo  keep- 
ing his  hold.  A  more  curious  and  ludicrous  sight 
never  gladdened  the  eye  of  a  hunter.  Samson  had 
found  it  hard  to  get  a  chance  to  shoot  at  the  noisy, 
swift  torrent  of  fur.  Suddenly  the  bear  rose  on  his 
hind  legs  and  let  out  an  angry  woof  and  gave  the 
basket  a  terrific  shaking.  In  this  brief  pause  a  ball 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  27 

from  the  rifle  went  to  his  heart  and  he  fell.  Samson 
jumped  forward,  seized  the  dog's  collar  and  pulled 
him  away  while  the  bear  struggled  in  his  death  throes. 
Then  the  man  started  for  camp,  while  his  great  laugh 
woke  distant  echoes  in  the  forest. 

"Bear  steak  for  dinner!"  he  shouted  to  Sarah  and 
the  children,  who  stood  shivering  with  fright  on  the 
bridge. 

Again  his  laughter  filled  the  woods  with  sound. 

"Gracious  Peter !  What  in  the  world  was  it  ?"  Sarah 
asked. 

"Well,  ye  see,  ol'  Uncle  Bear  came  to  steal  our 
bacon  an'  the  bacon  kind  o'  stole  him,"  said  Samson, 
between  peals  of  laughter,  the  infection  of  which  went 
to  the  heart  and  lips  of  every  member  of  the  family. 
"Shoved  his  head  into  the  pack  basket  and  the  pack 
basket  wouldn't  let  go.  It  said:  'This  is  the  first 
time  I  ever  swallered  a  bear,  an'  if  you  don't  mind 
I'll  stay  on  the  outside.  I  kind  o'  like  you.'  But  the 
bear  did  mind.  He  didn't  want  to  be  et  up  by  a  bas- 
ket. He'd  always  done  the  swallerin'  himself  an'  he 
hollered  an'  swore  at  the  basket  an'  tried  to  scare  it 
off.  Oh,  I  tell  ye  he  was  awful  sassy  and  impudent  to 
that  old  thing,  but  it  hung  on  and  the  way  he  flounced 
around,  with  Sambo  clingin'  to  his  tail,  and  the  bear 
thinkin'  that  he  was  bein'  swallered  at  both  ends,  was 
awful.  Come  an'  see  him." 

They  went  to  the  bear,  now  dead.    Sambo  ran  ahead 
of  them  and  laid  hold  of  the  bear's  stump  of  a  tail 


28  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

and  shook  it  savagely,  as  if  inclined  to  take  too  much 
credit  upon  himself.  The  hoop  of  the  pack  basket 
had  so  tight  a  hold  upon  the  bear's  neck  that  it  took  a 
strong  pull  to  get  it  back  over  his  head.  One  side  of 
the  basket  had  been  protected  from  the  bear's  claws 
by  a  pad  of  sole  leather — the  side  which,  when  the 
basket  was  in  use,  rested  on  the  back  of  its  carrier. 
His  claws  had  cut  nearly  through  it  and  torn  a  carry- 
ing strap  into  shreds. 

"I  guess  he'd  V  tore  off  his  veil  if  the  dog  had  give 
him  a  little  more  time,"  said  Samson.  "Ol'  Uncle 
Bear  had  trouble  at  both  ends  and  didn't  know  which 
way  to  turn." 

A  good-sized  piece  of  bacon  still  lay  in  the  bottom 
of  the  basket 

"I  wouldn't  wonder  if  that  would  taste  pretty  beary 
now,"  said  Samson,  as  he  surveyed  the  bacon.  "It's 
been  sneezed  at  and  growled  on  so  much.  Betsey,  yon 
take  that  down  to  the  shore  o'  the  river  there  and  wash 
the  bear  out  of  it.  I'll  skin  him  while  yer  mother  is 
gettin'  breakfast.  There's  plenty  o'  live  coals  under 
the  venison  rack,  I  guess." 

They  set  out  rather  late  that  morning.  As  usual, 
Joe  stood  by  the  head  of  Colonel  while  the  latter 
lapped  brown  sugar  from  the  timid  palm  of  the  boy. 
Then  the  horse  was  wont  to  touch  the  face  of  Joe  with 
his  big,  hairy  lips  as  a  tribute  to  his  generosity. 
Colonel  had  seemed  to  acquire  a  singular  attachment 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  29 

for  the  boy  and  the  dog,  while  Pete  distrusted  both 
of  them.  He  had  never  a  moment's  leisure,  anyhow, 
being  always  busy  with  his  work  or  the  flies.  A  few 
breaks  in  the  pack  basket  had  been  repaired  with  green 
withes.  It  creaked  with  its  load  of  jerked  venison 
when  put  aboard.  The  meat  of  the  bear  was  nicely 
wrapped  in  his  hide  and  placed  beside  it.  They  sold 
meat  and  hide  and  bounty  rights  in  the  next  village 
they  reached  for  thirty  long  shillings. 

"That  cheers  up  the  ol'  weasel,"  Samson  declared, 
as  they  went  on. 

"He  got  a  hard  knock  after  we  met  the  Brimsteads," 
said  Sarah. 

"Yes,  ma'am!  and  I'm  not  sorry  either.  He's  got 
to  come  out  of  his  hole  once  in  a  while.  I  tell  ye  God 
kind  o'  spoke  to  us  back  there  in  No  Santa  Claus  Land. 
He  kind  o'  spoke  to  us." 

After  a  little  silence,  Sarah  said :  "I  guess  He's  apt 
to  speak  in  the  voices  of  little  children." 

His  weasel  was  a  dried  pig's  bladder  of  unusual  size 
in  which  he  carried  his  money.  Samson  had  brought 
with  him  a  fairly  good  quantity  of  money  for  those 
days.  In  a  smaller  bladder  he  carried  his  tobacco. 

Farther  on  the  boy  got  a  sore  throat.  Sarah  bound 
a  slice  of  pork  around  it  and  Samson  built  a  camp  by 
the  roadside,  in  which,  after  a  good  fire  was  started, 
they  gave  him  a  hemlock  sweat.  This  they  did  by 
steeping  hemlock  in  pails  of  hot  water  and,  while  the 


30  A!  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

patient  sat  in  a  chair  by  the  fireside,  a  blanket  was 
spread  about  him  and  pinned  close  to  his  neck.  Under 
the  blanket  they  put  the  pails  of  steaming  hemlock  tea. 
After  his  sweat  and  a  day  and  night  in  bed,  with  a 
•warm  fire  burning  in  front  of  the  shanty,  Joe  was  able 
to  resume  his  seat  in  the  wagon.  They  spoke  of  the 
Brimsteads  and  thought  it  strange  that  they  had  not 
come  along. 

On  the  twenty-ninth  day  after  their  journey  began 
they  came  in  sight  of  the  beautiful  green  valley  of  the 
Mohawk.  As  they  looked  from  the  hills  they  saw  the 
roof  of  the  forest  dipping  down  to  the  river  shores 
and  stretching  far  to  the  east  and  west  and  broken, 
here  and  there,  by  small  clearings.  Soon  they  could 
see  the  smoke  and  spires  of  the  thriving  village  of 
Utica. 


CHAPTER  II 

WHEREIN  IS  RECORDED  THE  VIVID  IMPRESSION  MADE 
UPON  THE  TRAVELERS  BY  THEIR  VIEW  OF  A  STEAM 
ENGINE  AND  OF  THE  FAMOUS  ERIE  CANAL.  WHERE- 
IN, ALSO,  IS  A  BRIEF  ACCOUNT  OF  SUNDRY  CURIOUS 
CHARACTERS  MET  ON  THE  ROAD  AND  AT  A  CELEBRA- 
TION OF  THE  FOURTH  OF  JULY  ON  THE  BIG  WATER- 
WAY. 

AT  Utica  they  bought  provisions  and  a  tin  trumpet 
for  Joe,  and  a  doll  with  a  real  porcelain  face  for 
Betsey,  and  turned  into  the  great  main  thoroughfare 
of  the  north  leading  eastward  to  Boston  and  westward 
to  a  shore  of  the  midland  seas.  This  road  was  once 
the  great  trail  of  the  Iroquois,  by  them  called  the  Long 
House,  because  it  had  reached  from  the  Hudson  to 
Lake  Erie,  and  in  their  day  had  been  well  roofed  with 
foliage.  Here  the  travelers  got  their  first  view  of  a 
steam  engine.  The  latter  stood  puffing  and  smoking 
near  the  village  of  Utica,  to  the  horror  and  amazement 
of  the  team  and  the  great  excitement  of  those  in  the 
wagon.  The  boy  clung  to  his  father  for  fear  of  it. 

Samson  longed  to  get  out  of  the  wagon  and  take  a 
close  look  at  the  noisy  monster,  but  his  horses  were 
rearing  in  their  haste  to  get  away,  and  even  a  shore 


32  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

stop  was  impossible.  Sambo,  with  his  tail  between  his 
legs,  ran  ahead,  in  a  panic,  and  took  refuge  in  some 
bushes  by  the  roadside. 

"What  was  that,  father?"  the  boy  asked  when  the 
horses  had  ceased  to  worry  over  this  new  peril. 

"A  steam  engyne,"  he  answered.  "Sarah,  did  ye  get 
a  good  look  at  it?" 

"Yes;  if  that  don't  beat  all  the  newfangled  notions 
I  ever  heard  of,"  she  exclaimed. 

"It's  just  begun  doin'  business,"  said  Samson. 

"What  does  it  do?"  Joe  asked. 

"On  a  railroad  track  it  can  grab  hold  of  a  house  full 
o'  folks  and  run  off  with  it.  Goes  like  the  wind,  too." 

"Does  it  eat  'em  up?"  Joe  asked. 

"No.  It  eats  wood  and  oil  and  keeps  yellin'  for 
more.  I  guess  it  could  eat  a  cord  o'  wood  and  wash 
it  down  with  half  a  bucket  o'  castor  oil  in  about  five 
minutes.  It  snatches  folks  away  to  some  place  and 
drops  'em.  I  guess  it  must  make  their  hair  stand  up 
and  their  teeth  chatter." 

"Does  it  hurt  anybody?"  Joe  asked  hopefully. 

"Well,  sir,  if  anybody  wanted  to  be  hurt  and  got  in 
its  way,  I  rather  guess  he'd  succeed  purty  well.  It's 
powerful.  Why,  if  a  man  was  to  ketch  hold  of  the 
tail  of  a  locomotive,  and  hang  on,  it  would  jerk  the 
toe  nails  right  off  him." 

Joe  began  to  have  great  respect  for  locomotives. 

Soon  they  came  in  view  of  the  famous  Erie  Canal, 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  33 

hard  by  the  road.  Through  it  the  grain  of  the  far 
West  had  just  begun  moving  eastward  in  a  tide  that 
was  flowing  from  April  to  December.  Big  barges, 
drawn  by  mules  and  horses  on  its  shore,  were  cutting 
the  still  waters  of  the  canal.  They  stopped  and  looked 
at  the  barges  and  the  long  tow  ropes  and  the  tugging 
animals. 

"There  is  a  real  artificial  river,  hundreds  o'  miles 
long,  hand  made  of  the  best  material,  water  tight,  no 
snags  or  rocks  or  other  imperfections,  durability  guar- 
anteed," said  Samson.  "It  has  made  the  name  of 
DeWitt  Clinton  known  everywhere." 

"I  wonder  what  next!"  Sarah  exclaimed. 

They  met  many  teams  and  passed  other  movers 
going  west,  and  some  prosperous  farms  on  a  road 
wider  and  smoother  than  any  they  had  traveled.  They 
camped  that  night,  close  by  the  river,  with  a  Connecti- 
cut family  on  its  way  to  Ohio  with  a  great  load  of 
household  furniture  on  one  wagon  and  seven  children 
in  another.  There  were  merry  hours  for  the  young, 
and  pleasant  visiting  between  the  older  folk  that  eve- 
ning at  the  fireside.  There  was  much  talk  among  the 
latter  about  the  great  Erie  Canal. 

So  they  fared  along  through  Canandaigua  and 
across  the  Genesee  to  the  village  of  Rochester  and  on 
through  Lewiston  and  up  the  Niagara  River  to  the 
Falls,  and  camped  where  they  could  see  the  great  water 
flood  and  hear  its  muffled  thunder.  When  nearing  the 


34  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

latter  they  overtook  a  family  of  poor  Irish  emigrants, 
of  the  name  of  Flanagan,  who  shared  their  camp  site 
at  the  Falls.  The  Flanagans  were  on  their  way  to 
Michigan  and  had  come  from  the  old  country  three 
years  before  and  settled  in  Broome  County,  New 
York.  They,  too,  were  on  their  way  to  a  land  of 
better  promise.  Among  them  was  a  rugged,  freckled, 
red-headed  lad,  well  along  in  his  teens,  of  the  name 
of  Dennis,  who  wore  a  tall  beaver  hat,  tilted  saucily 
on  one  side  of  his  head,  and  a  ragged  blue  coat  with 
brass  buttons,  as  he  walked  beside  the  oxen,  whip  in 
hand,  with  trousers  tucked  in  the  tops  of  his  big  cow- 
hide boots.  There  was  also  a  handsome  young  man  in 
this  party  of  the  name  of  John  McNeil,  who  wore  a 
ruffled  shirt  and  swallow-tail  coat,  now  much  soiled 
by  the  journey.  He  listened  to  Samson's  account  of 
the  Sangamon  country  and  said  that  he  thought  he 
would  go  there.  He  had  traded  hats  on  the  way  with 
Dennis,  who  had  been  deeply  impressed  by  the  majes- 
tic look  of  the  beaver  and  had  given  a  silver  breast 
pin  and  fifteen  shillings  to  boot. 

A  jolly  lad  was  Dennis,  who  danced  jigs,  on  a  flat 
rock  by  the  riverside,  as  Samson  played  The  Irish 
Washerman  and  The  Fisher's  Hornpipe.  In  the  midst 
of  the  fun  a  puff  of  wind  snatched  the  tall  beaver  hat 
from  his  head  and  whirled  it  over  the  side  of  the  cliff 
into  the  foliage  of  a  clump  of  cedars  growing  out  of 
the  steep  cliff-side,  ten  feet  or  so  below  its  top.  Before 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  35 

any  one  could  stop  him  the  brave  Irish  lad  had  scram- 
bled down  the  steep  to  the  cedars — a  place  of  some 
peril,  for  they  hung  over  a  precipice  more  than  a  hun- 
dred feet  deep  above  the  river.  He  got  his  treasure, 
but  Samson  had  to  help  him  back  with  a  rope. 

The  latter  told  of  the  veiled  bear,  and  when  the 
story  was  finished  he  said  to  the  Irish  lad:  "It  will 
not  do  you  any  harm  to  remember  that  it  is  easier  to 
get  into  trouble  than  to  get  out  of  it.  In  my  opinion 
one  clean-hearted  Irish  boy  is  worth  more  than  all  the 
beaver  hats  in  creation." 

Sarah  gave  the  Irish  family  a  good  supply  of  cookies 
and  jerked  venison  before  she  bade  them  good-by. 

When  our  travelers  left,  next  morning,  they  stopped 
for  a  last  look  at  the  great  Falls. 

"Children,"  said  Samson,  "I  want  you  to  take  a 
good  look  at  that.  It's  the  most  wonderful  thing  in 
the  world  and  maybe  you'll  never  see  it  again." 

"The  Indians  used  to  think  that  the  Great  Spirit  was 
in  this  river,"  said  Sarah. 

"Kind  o'  seems  to  me  they  were  right,"  Samson  re- 
marked thoughtfully.  "Kind  o'  seems  as  if  the  great 
spirit  of  America  was  in  that  water.  It  moves  on  in 
the  wray  it  wills  and  nothing  can  stop  it.  Everything 
in  its  current  goes  along  with  it." 

"And  only  the  strong  can  stand  the  journey,"  said 
Sarah. 

These  words  were  no  doubt  inspired  by  an  ache  in 


36  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

her  bones.  A  hard  seat  and  the  ceaseless  jolting  of  the 
wagon  through  long,  hot,  dusty  days  had  wearied 
them.  Even  their  hearts  were  getting  sore  as  they 
thought  of  the  endless  reaches  of  the  roads  ahead. 
Samson  stuffed  a  sack  with  straw  and  put  it  under  her 
and  the  children  on  the  seat.  At  a  word  of  complaint 
he  was  wont  to  say : 

"I  know  it's  awful  tiresome,  but  we  got  to-  have 
patience.  We're  goin'  to  get  used  to  it  and  have  a 
wonderful  lot  of  fun.  The  time'll  pass  quick — you 
see." 

Then  he  would  sing  and  get  them  all  laughing  with 
some  curious  bit  of  drollery.  They  spent  the  night  of 
July  third  at  a  tavern  in  Buffalo,  then  a  busy,  crude  and 
rapidly  growing  center  for  the  shipping  east  and  west. 
Next  day  there  was  to  be  a  great  celebration  of  the 
Fourth  of  July  in  Buffalo  and  our  travelers  had 
stopped  there  to  witness  it.  The  bells  began  to  ring 
and  the  cannon  to  bomb  at  sunrise.  It  was  a  day  of 
great  excitement  for  the  west-bound  travelers.  The 
horses  trembled  in  their  stalls.  Sambo  took  refuge  in 
Colonel's  manger  and  would  not  come  out. 

There  were  many  emigrants  on  their  way  to  the 
far  West  in  the  crowd — men,  women  and  children  and 
babies  in  arms — Irish,  English,  Germans  and  Yankees. 
There  were  also  well  dressed,  handsome  young  men 
"from  the  colleges  of  New  England  going  out  to  be 
missionaries  "between  the  desert  and  the  sown." 

Buffalo,  on  the  edge  of  the  midland  seas,  had  the 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  37 

flavor  of  the  rank,  new  soil  in  it  those  days — and 
especially  that  day,  when  it  was  thronged  with  rough 
coated  and  rougher  tongued,  swearing  men  on  a  holi- 
day, stevedores  and  boatmen  off  the  lakes  and  rivers 
of  the  middle  border — some  of  whom  had  had  their 
training  on  the  Ohio  and  Mississippi.  There  was 
much  drunkenness  and  fighting  in  the  crowded  streets. 
Some  of  the  carriers  and  handlers  of  American  com- 
merce vented  their  enthusiasm  in  song. 

In  Samson's  diary  was  the  refrain  of  one  of  these 
old  lake  songs,  which  he  had  set  down,  as  best  he 
could,  after  the  event : 

"Then  here's  three  cheers  for  the  skipper  an'  his  crew, 
Give  'er  the  wind  an'  let  'er  go,  for  the  boys'll  put 

'er  through; 
I  thought  'twould  blow  the  whiskers  right  off  ©'  you 

an'  me, 
On  our  passage  up  from  Buffalo -to  Milwaukee-ee." 

Each  of  these  rough  men  had  dressed  to  his  own 
fancy.  Many  wore  fine  boots  of  calf  skin  with  red 
tops,  drawn  over  their  trousers,  and  high  heels  and 
blue  and  red  shirts  and  broad  brimmed  straw  hats.  A 
long  haired  man,  in  buckskin  leggings  and  moccasins, 
with  a  knife  at  his  belt  and  too  much  whisky  beneath 
it,  amused  a  crowd  by  a  loud  proclamation  of  his  own 
reckless  and  redoubtable  character  and  a  louder  appeal 
for  a  chance  to  put  it  in  action.  It  was  a  droll  bit  of 
bragging  and  merely  intended,  as  the  chronicler  in- 
forms us,  to  raise  a  laugh. 


38  A1  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

"Here  I  be  half  man  an'  half  alligator,"  he  shouted. 
"Oh,  I'm  one  o'  yer  tough  kind,  live  forever  an'  then 
turn  into  a  hickory  post  I've  just  crept  out  o'  the 
ma'shes  of  ol'  Kentuck.  I'm  only  a  yearlin',  but  cuss 
me  if  I  don't  think  I  can  whip  anybody  in  this  part  o' 
the  country.  I'm  the  chap  that  towed  the  Broadhorn 
up  Salt  River  where  the  snags  was  so  thick  a  fish 
couldn't  swim  without  rubbin'  his  scales  off.  Cock  a 
doodle  doo!  I'm  the  infant  that  refused  his  milk  be- 
fore his  eyes  was  open  an'  called  for  a  bottle  o'  rum. 
Talk  about  grinnin'  the  bark  off  a  tree — that  ain't 
nothin'.  One  look  o'  mine  would  raise  a  blister  on  a 
bull's  heel.  Cock  a  doodle  doo!  (slapping  his  thighs). 
Gol  darn  it!  Ain't  there  some  one  that  dast  come  up 
an'  collar  me?  It  would  just  please  my  vitals  if  there 
was  some  man  here  who  could  split  me  into  shoe  pegs. 
I  deserve  it  if  ever  a  man  did.  I'll  have  to  go  home 
an'  have  another  settlement  with  ol'  Bill  Sims.  He's 
purty  well  gouged  up,  an'  ain't  but  one  ear,  but  he's 
willin'  to  do  his  best.  That's  somethin'.  It  kind  o' 
stays  yer  appetite,  an'  I  suppose  that's  all  a  man  like 
me  can  expect  in  this  world  o'  sorrow." 

At  this  point  a  tall,  raw-boned  woman  in  "a  brindle 
dress"  (to  quote  the  phrase  of  Samson),  wearing  a 
large  gilt  pin  just  below  her  collar,  with  an  ortho- 
graphic design  which  spelled  the  name  Minnie,  ap- 
proached the  hero  and  boldly  boxed  his  ears. 

"Licked  at  last,"  he  shouted  as  he  picked  up  his  hat, 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  39 

dislodged  by  the  violence  he  had  suffered,  and  retired 
from  the  scene  with  a  good-natured  laugh. 

Sarah  was  a  bit  dismayed  by  the  behavior  of  these 
rough  forerunners  of  civilization. 

"Don't  worry,"  said  Samson,  as  they  were  driving 
away  on  the  Lake  Road  next  morning.  "The  lake  and 
river  boatmen  are  the  roughest  fellers  in  the  West, 
and  they're  not  half  as  bad  as  they  look  an'  talk.  Their 
deviltry  is  all  on  the  outside.  They  tell  me  that  there 
isn't  one  o'  those  boys  who  wouldn't  give  his  life  to 
help  a  woman,  an'  I  guess  it's  so." 

They  had  the  lake  view  and  its  cool  .breeze  on  their 
way  to  Silver  Creek,  Dunkirk  and  Erie,  and  a  rough 
way  it  was  in  those  days. 

Enough  has  been  written  of  this  long  and  wearisome 
journey,  but  the  worst  of  it  was  ahead  of  them — much 
the  worst  of  it — in  the  swamp  flats  of  Ohio  and  Indi- 
ana. In  one  of  the  former  a  wagon  wheel  broke 
down,  and  that  day  Sarah  began  to  shake  with  ague 
and  burn  with  fever.  Samson  built  a  rude  camp  by 
the  roadside,  put  Sarah  into  bed  under  its  cover  and 
started  for  the  nearest  village  on  Colonel's  back. 

"I  shall  never  forget  that  day  spent  in  a  lonely  part 
of  the  woods,"  the  good  woman  wrote  to  her  brother. 
"It  endeared  the  children  to  me  more  than  any  day  I 
can  remember.  They  brought  water  from  the  creek, 
a  great  quantity  of  which  I  drank,  and  bathed  my 
aching  head  and  told  me  stories  and  cheered  me  in 


40  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

every  way  they  could.  Joe  had  his  bear  stick  handy 
and  his  plans  for  bears  or  wolves  or  Indians.  Samson 
had  made  some  nails  at  a  smithy  in  Pennsylvania.  Joe 
managed  to  drive  one  of  them  through  an  end  of  his 
bear  stick  and  made,  as  he  thought,  a  formidable 
weapon.  With  his  nail  he  hoped  to  penetrate  the 
bear's  eye.  He  had  also  put  some  bacon  in  the  bottom 
of  the  pack  basket,  knowing  the  liking  of  the  basket 
for  bears.  My  faith  in  God's  protection  was  perfect 
and  in  spite  of  my  misery  the  children  were  a  great 
comfort.  In  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  Samson  re- 
turned with  a  doctor  and  some  tools  and  a  stick  of 
seasoned  timber.  How  good  he  looked  when  he  came 
and  knelt  by  my  bed  and  kissed  me!  This  is  a  hard 
journey,  but  a  woman  can  bear  anything  with  such  a 
man.  The  doctor  gave  me  Sapington's  fever  pills  and 
sai'd  I  would  be  all  right  in  three  days,  and  I  was. 

"Late  that  afternoon  it  began  to  rain.  Samson  was 
singing  as  he  worked  on  his  wheel.  A  traveler  came 
along  on  horseback  and  saw  our  plight.  He  was  a 
young  missionary  going  west.  Samson  began  to  joke 
with  him. 

"  'You're  a  happy  man  for  one  in  so  much  trouble,' 
said  the  stranger. 

"Then  I  heard  Samson  say:  'Well,  sir,  I'm  in  a  fix 
where  happiness  is  absolutely  necessary.  It's  like 
grease  on  the  wagon  wheels — we  couldn't  go  on  with- 
out i't.  When  we  need  anything  we  make  it  if  we  can. 
My  wife  is  sick  and  the  wagon  is  broke  and  it's  rain- 
ing and  night  is  near  in  a  lonesome  country,  and  it 
ain't  a  real  good  time  for  me  to  be  down  in  the  mouth 
— is  it  now?  We  haven't  broke  any  bones  or  had  an 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  41 

earthquake  or  been  scalped  by  Indians,  so  there's  some 
room  for  happiness.' 

"  'Look  here,  stranger — I  like  you/  said  the  man. 
'If  there's  anything  I  can  do  to  help  ye,  I'll  stop 
a  while.' ' 

He  spent  the  night  with  them  and  helped  mend  the 
felly  and  set  the  tire. 

The  fever  and  ague  passed  from  one  to  another 
and  all  were  sick  before  the  journey  ended,  although 
Samson  kept  the  reins  in  hand  through  his  misery. 
There  were  many  breaks  to  mend,  but  Samson's  in- 
genuity was  always  equal  to  the  task. 

One  day,  near  nightfall,  they  were  overtaken  by  a 
tall,  handsome  Yankee  lad  riding  a  pony.  His  pony 
stopped  beside  the  wagon  and  looked  toward  the  trav- 
elers as  if  appealing  for  help.  The  boy  was  pointing 
toward  the  horizon  and  muttering.  Sarah  saw  at 
once  that  his  mind  was  wandering  in  the  delirium  of 
fever.  She  got  out  of  the  wagon  and  took  his  hand. 
The  moment  she  did  so  he  began  crying  like  a  child. 

"This  boy  is  sick,"  she  said  to  Samson,  who  came 
and  helped  him  off  his  horse.  They  camped  for  the 
night  and  put  the  boy  to  bed  and  gave  him  medicine 
and  tender  care.  He  was  too  sick  to  travel  next  day. 
The  Traylors  stayed  with  him  and  nursed  the  lad 
until  he  was  able  to  go  on.  He  was  from  Niagara 
County,  New  York,  and  his  name  was  Harry  Needles. 
His  mother  had  died  when  he  was  ten  and  his  father 


42  A1  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

had  married  again. '  He  had  not  been  happy  in  his 
home  after  that  and  his  father  had  given  him  a  pony 
and  a  hundred  dollars  and  sent  him  away  to  seek  his 
own  fortune.  Homesick  and  lonely  and  ill,  and  just 
going  west  with  a  sublime  faith  that  the  West  would 
somehow  provide  for  him,  he  might  even  have  perished 
on  the  way  if  he  had  not  fallen  in  with  friendly  people. 
His  story  had  touched  the  heart  of  Sarah  and  Samson. 
He  was  a  big,  green,  gentle-hearted  country  boy  who 
had  set  out  filled  with  hope  and  the  love  of  adventure. 
Sarah  found  pleasure  in  mothering  the  poor  lad,  and 
so  it  happened  that  he  became  one  of  their  little  party. 
He  was  helpful  and  good-natured  and  had  sundry  arts 
that  pleased  the  children.  The  man  and  the  woman 
liked  the  big,  honest  lad. 

One  day  he  said  to  Samson:  "I  hope  you  won't 
mind  if  I  go  along  with  you,  sir." 

"Glad  to  have  you  with  us,"  said  Samson.  "We've 
talked  it  over.  If  you  want  to,  you  can  come  along 
with  us  and  our  home  shall  be  yours  and  I'll  do  what's 
right  by  you." 

They  fared  along  through  Indiana  and  over  the 
wide  savannas  of  Illinois,  and  on  the  ninety-seventh 
day  of  their  journey  they  drove  through  rolling,  grassy, 
flowering  prairies  and  up  a  long,  hard  hill  to  the  small 
log  cabin  settlement  of  New  Salem,  Illinois,  on  the 
shore  of  the  Sangamon.  They  halted  about  noon  in 
the  middle  of  this  little  prairie  village,  opposite  a  small 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  43 

clapboarded  house.    A  sign  hung  over  its  door  which 
bore  the  rudely  lettered  words:    "Rutledge's  Tavern." 

A  long,  slim,  stoop-shouldered  young  man  sat  in  the 
shade  of  an  oak  tree  that  stood  near  a  corner  of  the 
tavern,  with  a  number  of  children  playing  around  him. 
He  had  sat  leaning  against  the  tree  trunk  reading  a 
book.  He  had  risen  as  they  came  near  and  stood 
looking  at  them,  with  the  book  under  his  arm.  Sam- 
son says  in  his  diary  that  he  looked  like  "an  untrimmed 
yearling  colt  about  sixteen  hands  high.  He  got  up 
slow  and  kept  rising  till  his  bush  of  black  tousled  hair 
was  six  feet  four  above  the  ground.  Then  he  put  on 
an  old  straw  hat  without  any  band  on  it.  He  reminded 
me  of  Philemon  Baker's  fish  rod,  he  was  that  narrer. 
For  humliness  I'd  match  him  against  the  world.  His 
hide  was  kind  o'  yaller  and  leathery.  I  could  see  he 
was  still  in  the  gristle — a  little  over  twenty — but  his 
face  was  marked  up  by  worry  and  weather  like  a 
man's.  I  never  saw  anybody  so  long  between  joints. 
Don't  hardly  see  how  he  could  tell  when  his  feet  got 
cold.". 

He  wore  a  hickory  shirt  without  a  collar  or  coat  or 
jacket.  One  suspender  held  up  his  coarse,  linsey 
trousers,  the  legs  of  which  fitted  closely  and  came  only 
to  a  blue  yarn  zone  above  his  heavy  cowhide  shoes. 
Samson  writes  that  he  "fetched  a  sneeze  and  wiped 
his  big  nose  with  a  red  handkerchief"  as  he  stood  sur- 
veying them  in  silence,  while  Dr.  John  Allen,  who  had 


44 

sat  on  the  door-step  reading  a  paper — a  kindly  faced 
man  of  middle  age  with  a  short  white  beard  under  his 
chin — greeted  them  cheerfully. 

The  withering  sunlight  of  a  day  late  in  August  fell 
upon  the  dusty  street,  now  almost  deserted.  Faces  at 
the  doors  and  windows  of  the  little  houses  were  look- 
ing out  at  them.  Two  ragged  boys  and  a  ginger 
colored  dog  came  running  toward  the  wagon.  The 
latter  and  Sambo  surveyed  each  other  with  raised  hair 
and  began  scratching  the  earth,  straight  legged,  whin- 
ing meanwhile,  and  in  a  moment  began  to  play  to- 
gether. A  man  in  blue  jeans  who  sat  on  the  veranda 
of  a  store  opposite,  leaning  against  its  wall,  stopped 
whittling  and  shut  his  jack-knife. 

"Where  do  ye  hail  from  ?"  the  Doctor  asked. 

"Vermont,"  said  Samson. 

"All  the  way  in  that  wagon?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"I  guess  you're  made  o'  the  right  stuff,"  said  the 
Doctor.  "Where  ye  bound  ?" 

"Don't  know  exactly.  Going  to  take  up  a  claim 
somewhere." 

"There's  no  better  country  than  right  here.  This 
is  the  Canaan  of  America.  We  need  people  like  you. 
Unhitch  your  team  and  have  some  dinner  and  we'll 
talk  things  over  after  you're  rested.  I'm  the  doctor 
here  and  I  ride  all  over  this  part  o'  the  country.  I 
reckon  I  know  it  pretty  well." 

A  woman  in  a  neat  calico  dress  came  out  of  the 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  45 

door — a  strong  built  and  rather  well  favored  woman 
with  blonde  hair  and  dark  eyes. 

"Mrs.  Rutledge,  these  are  travelers  from  the  East," 
said  the  Doctor.  "Give  'em  some  dinner,  and  if  they 
can't  pay  for  it,  I  can.  They've  come  all  the  way  from 
Vermont." 

"Good  land !  Come  right  in  an'  rest  yerselves.  Abe, 
you  show  the  gentleman  where  to  put  his  horses  an' 
lend  him  a  hand." 

Abe  extended  his  long  arm  toward  Samson  and 
said  "Howdy"  as  they  shook  hands. 

"When  his  big  hand  got  hold  of  mine,  I  kind  of  felt 
his  timber,"  Samson  writes.  "I  says  to  myself, 
'There's  a  man  it  would  be  hard  to  tip  over  in  a 
rassle.' " 

"What's  yer  name?  How  long  ye  been  travelin'? 
My  conscience!  Ain't  ye  wore  out?"  the  hospitable 
Mrs.  Rutledge  was  asking  as  she  went  into  the  house 
with  Sarah  and  the  children.  "You  go  and  mix  up 
with  the  little  ones  and  let  yer  mother  rest  while  I  git 
dinner,"  she  said  to  Joe  and  Betsey,  and  added  as  she 
took  Sarah's  shawl  and  bonnet:  "You  lop  down  an' 
rest  yerself  while  I'm  flyin'  around  the  fire." 

"Come  all  the  way  from  Vermont?"  Abe  asked  as 
he  and  Samson  were  unhitching. 

"Yes,  sir." 

"By  jing!"  the  slim  giant  exclaimed.  "I  reckon  you 
feel  like  throwin'  off  yer  harness  an'  takin'  a  roll  in 
the  grass." 


CHAPTER   III 

WHEREIN  THE  READER  IS  INTRODUCED  TO  OFFUT's 
STORE  AND  HIS  CLERK  ABE,  AND  THE  SCHOLAR 
JACK  KELSO  AND  HIS  CABIN  AND  HIS  DAUGHTER 
BIM,  AND  GETS  A  FIRST  LOOK  AT  LINCOLN. 

THEY  had  a  dinner  of  prairie  chickens  and  roast 
venison,  flavored  with  wild  grape  jelly,  and  creamed 
potatoes  and  cookies  and  doughnuts  and  raisin  pie. 
It  was  a  well  cooked  dinner,  served  on  white  linen, 
in  a  clean  room,  and  while  they  were  eating,  the  sym- 
pathetic landlady  stood  by  the  table,  eager  to  learn  of 
their  travels  and  to  make  them  feel  at  home.  The 
.good  food  and  their  kindly  welcome  and  the  beauty 
of  the  rolling,  wooded  prairies  softened  the  regret 
which  had  been  growing  in  their  hearts,  and  which 
only  the  children  had  dared  to  express. 

"Perhaps  we  haven't  made  a  mistake  after  all," 
Sarah  whispered  when  the  dinner  was  over.  "I  like 
these  people  and  the  prairies  are  beautiful." 

"It  is  the  land  of  plenty  at  last,"  said  Samson,  as 
they  came  out-of-doors.  "It  is  even  better  than  I 
thought." 

"As  Douglas  Jerrold  said  of  Australia:  'Tickle  it 
with  a  hoe  and  it  laughs  with  a  harvest,' "  said  Dr. 

46 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  47 

Allen,  who  still  sat  in  the  shaded  dooryard,  smoking 
his  pipe.  "I  have  an  extra  horse  and  saddle.  Sup- 
pose you  leave  the  family  with  Mrs.  Rutledge  and 
ride  around  with  me  a  little  this  afternoon.  I  can 
show  you  how  the  land  lies  off  to  the  west  of  us,  and 
to-morrow  we'll  look  at  the  other  side." 

"Thank  you — I  want  to  look  around  here  a  little," 
said  Samson.  "What's  the  name  of  this  place?" 

"New  Salem.  We  call  it  a  village.  It  has  a  mill,  a 
carding  machine,  a  tavern,  a  schoolhouse,  five  stores, 
fourteen  houses,  two  or  three  men  of  genius,  and  a 
noisy  dam.  You  will  hear  other  damns,  if  you  stay  here 
long  enough,  but  they  don't  amount  to  much.  It's  a. 
crude  but  growing  place  and  soon  it  will  have  all  the 
embellishments  of  civilized  life." 

That  evening  many  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  little 
village  came  to  the  tavern  to  see  the  travelers  and 
were  introduced  by  Dr.  Allen.  Most  of  them  had 
come  from  Kentucky,  although  there  were  two  Yankee 
families  who  had  moved  on  from  Ohio. 

"These  are  good  folks,"  said  the  Doctor.  "There 
are  others  who  are  not  so  good.  I  could  show  you 
some  pretty  rough  customers  at  Clary's  Grove,  not  far 
from  here.  We  have  to  take  things  as  they  are  and 
do  our  best  to  make  'em  better." 

"Any  Indians?"  Sarah  asked. 

"You  see  one  now  and  then,  but  they're  peaceable. 
Most  of  'em  have  gone  with  the  buffalos — farther 


48  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

west.  We  have  make-believe  Indians — some  reckless 
white  boys  who  come  whooping  into  the  village,  half 
crazy  with  drink,  once  in  a  while.  They're  not  so  bad 
as  they  seem  to  be.  We'll  have  to  do  a  little  mission- 
ary work  with  them.  The  Indians  have  left  their 
imitators  all  over  the  West,  but  they  only  make  a  loud 
noise.  That  will  pass  away  soon.  It's  a  noisy  land. 
Now  and  then  a  circuit  rider  gets  here  and  preaches 
to  us.  You'll  hear  the  Reverend  Stephen  Nuckles  if 
you  settle  in  these  parts.  He  can  holler  louder  than 
any  man  in  the  state." 

"You  bet  he  can  holler  some  when  he  gits  fixed  for 
it,"  said  Abe,  who  sat  near  the  open  door. 

"He's  for  them  that  need  scarin'.  The  man  that 
don't  need  that  has  to  be  his  own  preacher  here  and 
sow  and  reap  his  own  morality.  He  can  make  him- 
self just  as  much  of  a  saint  as  he  pleases." 

"If  he  has  the  raw  material  to  work  with,"  Abe  in- 
terposed. 

"The  self-made  saint  is  the  only  kind  I  believe  in," 
said  Samson. 

"We  haven't  any  Erie  Canal  to  Heaven,  with  the 
minister  towin'  us  along,"  said  Abe.  "There's  some 
that  say  it's  only  fifteen  miles  to  Springfield,  but  the 
man  that  walks  it  knows  better." 

The  tavern  was  the  only  house  in  New  Salem  with 
stairs  in  it.  Stairs  so  steep,  as  Samson  writes,  that 
"they  were  first  cousins  to  the  ladder."  There  were 


A  MAN.  FOR  THE  AGES  49 

four  small  rooms  above  them.  Two  of  these  were 
separated  by  a  partition  of  cloth  hanging  from  the 
rafters.  In  each  was  a  bed  and  bedstead  and  smaller 
beds  on  the  floor.  In  case  there  were  a  number  of 
adult  guests  the  bedstead  was  screened  with  sheets 
hung  upon  strings.  In  one  of  these  rooms  the  travel- 
ers had  a  night  of  refreshing  sleep. 

After  riding  two  days  with  the  Doctor,  Samson 
bought  the  claim  of  one  Isaac  Gollaher  to  a  half  sec- 
tion of  land  a  little  more  than  a  mile  from  the  western 
end  of  the  village.  He  chose  a  site  for  his  house  on 
the  edge  of  an  open  prairie. 

"Now  we'll  go  over  and  see  Abe,"  said  Dr.  Allen, 
after  the  deal  was  made.  "He's  the  best  man  with 
an  axe  and  a  saw  in  this  part  of  the  country.  He 
clerks  for  Mr.  Offut.  Abe  Lincoln  is  one  of  the  best 
fellows  that  ever  lived — a  rough  diamond  just  out  of 
the  great  mine  of  the  West,  that  only  needs  to  be  cut 
and  polished." 

Denton  Offut's  store  was  a  small  log  structure  about 
twenty  by  twenty  which  stood  near  the  brow  of  the 
hill  east  of  Rutledge's  Tavern.  When  they  entered  it 
Abe  lay  at  full  length  on  the  counter,  his  head  resting 
on  a  bolt  of  blue  denim  as  he  studied  a  book  in  his 
hand.  He  wore  the  same  shirt  and  one  suspender  and 
linsey  trousers  which  he  had  worn  in  the  dooryard  of 
the  tavern,  but  his  feet  were  covered  only  by  his  blue 
yarn  socks/ 


£0  "A.  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

It  was  a  general  store  full  of  exotic  flavors,  chiefly 
those  of  tea,  coffee,  whisky,  tobacco,  muscovado  sugar 
and  molasses.  There  was  a  counter  on  each  side. 
Bolts  of  cloth,  mostly  calico,  were  piled  on  the  far  end 
of  the  right  counter  as  one  entered  and  the  near  end 
held  a  show  case  containing  a  display  of  cutlery,  pewter 
spoons,  jewelry  and  fishing  tackle.  There  were  dou- 
ble windows  on  either  side  of  the  rough  board  door 
with  its  wooden  latch.  The  left  counter  held  a  case 
filled  with  threads,  buttons,  combs,  colored  ribbons, 
and  belts  and  jew's-harps.  A  balance  stood  in  the  mid- 
dle of  this  counter.  A  chest  of  tea,  a  big  brown  jug, 
a  box  of  candles,  a  keg  and  a  large  wooden  pail  occu- 
pied its  farther  end.  The  shelving  on  its  side  walls 
was  filled  by  straw  hats,  plug  tobacco,  bolts  of  cloth, 
pills  and  patent  medicines  and  paste-board  boxes  con- 
taining shirts,  handkerchiefs  and  underwear.  A  suit  of 
blue  jeans,  scythes  and  snaths,  hoes,  wooden  hand 
rakes  and  a  brass  warming-pan  hung  from  the  rafters. 
At  the  rear  end  of  the  store  was  a  large  fireplace. 
There  were  two  chairs  near  the  fireplace,  both  of  which 
were  occupied  by  a  man  who  sat  in  one  while  his  feet 
lay  on  the  other.  He  was  sleeping  peacefully,  his  chin 
resting  on  his  breast.  He  wore  a  calico  shirt  with  a 
fanciful  design  of  morning-glories  on  it  printed  in  ap- 
propriate colors,  a  collar  of  the  same  material  and  a 
red  necktie. 

Abe  laid  aside  his  book  and  rose  to  a  sitting  pos- 
ture. 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  51 

"Pardon  me — you  see  the  firm  is  busy,"  said  Abe. 
"You  know  Eb  Zane  used  to  say  that  he  was  never 
so  busy  in  his  life  as  when  he  lay  on  his  back  with  a 
broken  leg.  He  said  he  had  to  work  twenty- four  hours 
a  day  doin'  nothin'  an'  could  never  git  an  hour  off. 
But  a  broken  leg  is  not  so  bad  as  a  lame  intellect. 
That  lays  you  out  with  the  fever  an'  ague  of  ignorance. 
Jack  Kelso  recommended  Kirkham's  pills  and  poul- 
tices of  poetry.  I'm  trying  both  and  slowly  getting  the 
better  of  it.  I've  learned  three  conjugations,  between 
customers,  this  afternoon." 

The  man  sleeping  in  the  chair  began  snoring  and 
groaning. 

"Don't  blame  Bill,"  Abe  went  on.  "Any  man  would 
have  the  nightmare  in  a  shirt  like  that.  He  went  to  a 
dance  at  Clary's  Grove  last  night  and  they  shut  him 
up  in  a  barrel  with  a  small  dog  and  rolled  'em  down 
hill  in  it.  I  reckon  that's  how  he  learnt  how  to  growl." 

In  the  laughter  that  followed  the  sleeper  awoke. 

"You  see  there's  quite  an  undercurrent  beneath  the 
placid  surface  of  our  enterprise,"  Abe  added. 

The  sleeper  whose  name  was  William  Berry  rose 
and  stretched  himself  and  was  introduced  to  the  new- 
comer. He  was  a  short,  genial  man,  of  some  thirty 
years,  with  blond,  curly  hair  and  mustache.  On 
account  of  his  shortness  and  high  color  he  was  often 
referred  to  as  the  Billberry  shortcake.  His  fat  cheeks 
had  a  color  as  definite  as  that  of  the  blossoms  on  his 
shirt,  now  rather  soiled.  His  prominent  nose  shared 


52  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

their  glow  of  ruddy  opulence.  His  gray  eyes  wore 
a  look  of  apology.  He  walked  rather  stiffly  as  if  his 
legs  were  rheumatic. 

"Mr.  Traylor,  this  is  Mr.  William  Berry,"  said  Dr. 
Allen.  "In  this  beautiful  shirt  he  resembles  a  bit  of 
vine-clad  sculpture  from  an  Italian  garden,  but  is  real 
flesh  and  blood  and  a  good  fellow." 

"I  don't  understand  your  hi'gh-toned  talk,"  said 
Berry.  "This  shirt  suits  me  to  a  dot." 

"It  is  the  pride  of  New  Salem,"  said  the  Doctor. 
"Mr.  Traylor  has  just  acquired  an  interest  in  all  our 
institutions.  He  has  bought  the  Gollaher  tract  and 
is  going  to  build  a  house  and  some  fences.  Abe, 
couldn't  you  help  get  the  timber  out  in  a  hurry  so  we 
can  have  a  raising  within  a  week?  You  know  the 
arts  of  the  axe  better  than  any  of  us." 

Abe  looked  at  Samson. 

"I  reckon  he  and  I  would  make  a  good  team  with  the 
axe,"  he  said.  "He  looks  as  if  he  could  push  a  house 
down  with  one  hand  and  build  it  up  with  the  other. 
You  can  bet  I'll  be  glad  to  help  in  any  way  I  can." 

"We'll  all  turn  in  and  help.  I  should  think  Bill 
or  Jack  Kelso  could  look  after  the  store  for  a  few 
days,"  said  the  Doctor.  "I  promised  to  take  Mr. 
Traylor  over  to  Jack  Kelso's  to-night.  Couldn't  you 
come  along?" 

"Good!  We'll  have  a  story-tellin'  and  get  Jack  to 
unlimber  his  guns,"  said  Abe. 

It  was  a  cool  evening  with  a  promise  of  frost  in  the 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  53 

air.  Jack  Kelso's  cabin,  one  of  two  which  stood  close 
together  at  the  western  end  of  the  village,  was  lighted 
by  the  cheery  blaze  of  dry  logs  in  its  fireplace.  There 
were  guns  on  a  rack  over  the  fireplace  under  a  buck's 
head;  a  powder  horn  hanging  near  them  on  its  string 
looped  over  a  nail.  There  were  wolf  and  deer  and 
bear  pelts  on  the  floor.  The  skins  of  foxes,  raccoons 
and  wildcats  adorned  the  log  walls.  Jack  Kelso  was 
a  blond,  smooth  faced,  good-looking,  merry-hearted 
Scot,  about  forty  years  old,  of  a  rather  slight  build, 
some  five  feet,  eight  inches  tall.  That  is  all  that  any 
one  knew  of  him  save  that  he  spent  most  of  his  time 
hunting  and  fishing  and  seemed  to  have  all  the  best 
things,  which  great  men  had  said  or  written,  on  the 
tip  of  his  tongue.  He  was  neatly  dressed  in  a  blue 
flannel  coat  and  shirt,  top  boots  and  riding  breeches. 

"Welcome !  and  here's  the  best  seat  at  the  fireside," 
he  said  to  Samson. 

Then,  as  he  filled  his  pipe,  he  quoted  the  lines  from 
Cymbeline : 

"  'Think  us  no  churls  nor  measure  our  good  minds 
'By  this  rude  place  we  live  in.' 

"My  wife  and  daughter  are  away  for  a  visit  and  for 
two  days  I've  had  the  cabin  to  myself.  Look,  ye  wor- 
shipers of  fire,  and  see  how  fine  it  is  now!  The 
homely  cabin  is  a  place  of  beauty.  Everything  has 
the  color  of,  the  rose,  coming  and  going  in  the  flick- 
ering shadows.  What  a  heaven  it  is  when  the  flames 


54  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

are  leaping!  Here  is  Hogarth's  line  of  beauty;  noth- 
ing perpendicular  or  horizontal." 

He  took  Abe's  hand  and  went  on :  "Here,  ye  lovers 
of  romance,  is  one  of  the  story-tellers  of  Ispahan  who 
has  in  him  the  wisdom  of  the  wandering  tribes.  He 
can  tell  you  a  tale  that  will  draw  children  from  their 
play  and  old  men  from  the  chimney  corner.  My  boy, 
take  a  chair  next  to  Mr.  Traylor." 

He  took  the  hand  of  the  Doctor  and  added :  "Here, 
too,  is  a  man  whose  wit  is  more  famous  than  his  pills — 
one  produces  the  shakes  and  the  other  cures  them. 
Doctor,  you  and  I  will  take  the  end  seats." 

"My  pills  can  be  relied  upon  but  my  wit  is  like  my 
dog,  away  from  home  most  of  the  time,"  said  the  Doc- 
tor. 

"Gathering  the  bones  with  which  you  often  astonish 
us,"  said  Kelso.  "How  are  the  lungs,  Doctor?" 

"They're  all  right.  These  long  rides  in  the  open  are 
making  a  new  man  of  me.  Another  year  in  the  city 
would  have  used  me  up." 

"Mr.  Traylor,  you  stand  up  as  proud  and  firm  as  a 
big  pine,"  Kelso  remarked.  "I  believe  you're  a  Yan- 
kee." 

"So  do  I,"  said  Samson.  "If  you  took  all  the  Yan- 
kee out  o'  me  I'd  have  an  empty  skin." 

Then  Abe  began  to  show  the  stranger  his  peculiar 
art  in  these  words : 

"Stephen  Nuckles  used  to  say:    'God's  grace  em- 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  55 

braces  the  isles  o'  the  sea  an'  the  uttermost  parts  o* 
the  earth.  It  takes  in  the  Esquimaux  an'  the  Hot- 
tentots. Some  go  so  fur  as  to  say  that  it  takes  in 
the  Yankees  but  I  don't  go  so  fur.' ' 

Samson  joined  in  the  good-natured  laughter  that 
followed. 

"If  you  deal  with  some  Yankees  you  take  your  life 
in  your  hands,"  he  said.  "They  can  serve  God  or 
Mammon  and  I  guess  they  have  given  the  Devil  some 
of  his  best  ideas.  He  seems  to  be  getting  a  lot  of 
Yankee  notions  lately." 

"There  was  a  powerful  prejudice  in  Kentucky 
against  the  Yankees,"  Abe  went  on.  "Down  there  they 
used  to  tell  about  a  Yankee  who  sold  his  hogs  and 
was  driving  them  to  town.  On  the  way  he  decided  that 
he  had  sold  them  too  cheap.  He  left  them  with  his 
drover  in  the  road  and  went  on  to  town  and  told  the 
buyer  that  he  would  need  help  to  bring  'em  in. 

"  'How's  that?'  the  buyer  asked. 

"  'Why  they  git  away  an'  go  to  runnin'  through  the 
woods  an'  fields  an'  we  can't  keep  up  with  'em.' 

"  'I  don't  think"  I  want  'em,'  says  the  buyer.  'A 
speedy  hog  hasn't  much  pork  to  carry.  I'll  give  ye 
twenty  bits  to  let  me  off.' ' 

"I  guess  that  Yankee  had  one  more  hog  than  he'd 
counted,"  said  Samson. 

"It  reminds  me  of  a  man  in  Pope  County  who 
raised  the  biggest  hog  in  Illinois,"  Abe  went  on.  "It 


I 

56  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

was  a  famous  animal  and  people  from  far  and  near 
came  to  see  him.  One  day  a  man  came  an'  asked  to 
see  the  hog. 

"  'We're  chargin'  two  bits  for  the  privilege  now,' 
said  the  owner. 

"The  man  paid  the  money  and  got  into  his  wagon. 

"  'Don't  you  want  to  see  him  ?'  the  farmer  asked. 

"  'No,'  said  the  stranger.  'I've  seen  the  biggest 
hog  in  Illinois  an'  I  don't  care  to  look  at  a  smaller 
one.' " 

"Whatever  prejudice  you  may  find  here  will  soon 
vanish,"  said  Kelso,  turning  to  the  newcomer.  "I  have 
great  respect  for  the  sturdy  sons  of  New  England.  1 
believe  it  was  Theodore  Parker  who  said  that  the  pine 
was  the  symbol  of  their  character.  He  was  right. 
Its  roots  are  deep  in  the  soil;  it  towers  above  the 
forest;  it  has  the  strength  of  tall  masts  and  the  sub- 
stance of  the  builder  in  its  body,  music  in  its  wav- 
ing branches  and  turpentine  in  its  veins.  I  thought 
of  this  when  I  saw  Webster  and  heard  him  speak  at 
Plymouth." 

"What  kind  of  a  looking  man  is  he?"  Abe  asked. 

"A  big  erect,  splendid  figure  of  a  man.  He  walked 
like  a  ram  at  the  head  of  his  flock.  As  he  began 
speaking  I  thought  of  that  flash  of  Homer's  in  the 
Odyssey : 

"  'When  his  great  voice  went  forth  out  of  his  breast 
and  his  words  fell  like  the  winter  snows — not  then 
would  any  mortal  contend  with  Ulysses.' ' 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  57 

Abe  who  since  his  story  had  sat  with  a  sad  face  look- 
ing into  the  fire  now  leaned  forward,  his  elbows  on 
his  knees,  and  shook  his  head  with  interest  while  his 
gray  eyes  took  on  a  look  of  animation.  The  diary 
speaks  often  of  the  "veil  of  sadness"  on  his  face. 

"He  is  a  very  great  man,"  Abe  exclaimed. 

"Have  you  learned  that  last  noble  flight  of  his  in 
the  reply  to  Hayne  as  you  promised  ?"  Kelso  asked. 

"I  have,"  said  Abe,  "and  the  other  day  when  I  was 
tramping  back  from  Bowlin  Green's  I  came  across  a 
drove  of  cattle  and  stopped  and  gave  it  to  them.  They 
all  let  go  of  the  grass  and  stood  looking.  By  an'  by 
the  bull  thought  he'd  stood  it  as  long  as  he  could  an' 
bellered  back  at  me." 

"Good !  Now  stand  up  and  let  us  see  how  you  imi' 
tate  the  great  chief  of  the  Whig  clan,"  said  Kelso. 

The  lank  and  awkward  youth  rose  and  began  to 
speak  the  lines  in  a  high  pitched  voice  that  trembkd 
with  excitement.  It  lowered  and  steadied  and  rang 
out  like  noble  music  on  a  well  played  trumpet  as  the 
channel  of  his  spirit  filled  with  the  mighty  current  of 
the  orator's  passion.  Then,  indeed,  the  words  fell 
from  his  lips  "like  the  winter  snows." 

"They  shook  our  hearts  as  the  wind  shakes  the 
branches  of  a  tree,"  Samson  writes  in  his  diary.  "The 
lean,  bony  body  of  the  boy  was  transfigured  and  as  I 
looked  at  his  face  in  the  firelight  I  thought  it  was  hand- 
some. 

"Not  a  word  was  spoken  for  a  minute  after  he  sat 


58  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

down.  I  had  got  my  first  look  at  Lincoln.  I  had  seen 
his  soul.  I  think  it  was  then  I  began  to  realize  that 
a  man  was  being  made  among  us  'more  precious  than 
fine  gold;  even  a  man  more  precious  than  the  golden 
wedge  of  Ophir.' ' 

The  Doctor  gazed  in  silence  at  the  boy.  Kelso  sat 
with  both  hands  in  his  pockets  and  his  chin  upon  his 
breast  looking  solemnly  into  the  fire. 

"Thank  you,  Abe,"  he  said  in  a  low  voice.  "Some- 
thing unusual  has  happened  and  I'm  just  a  little  scared." 

"Why?"  Abe  asked. 

"For  fear  somebody  will  spoil  it  with  another  hog 
story.  I'm  a  little  afraid  of  anything  I  can  say.  I 
would  venture  this,  that  the  man  Webster  is  a  prophet. 
In  his  Plymouth  address  he  hears  receding  into  never 
returning  distance  the  clank  of  chains  and  all  the  hor- 
rid din  of  slavery.  It  will  come  true." 

"Do  you  think  so?"  Abe  asked. 

"Surely — there  are  so  many  of  us  who  hate  it.  These 
Yankees  hate  it  and  they  and  their  children  are  scat- 
tering all  over  the  midlands.  Their  spirit  will  guide 
the  West.  The  love  of  Liberty  is  the  salt  of  their  blood 
and  the  marrow  of  their  bones.  Liberty  means  free- 
dom for  all.  Wait  until  these  babies,  coming  out  here 
by  the  wagon  load,  have  grown  to  manhood.  Slavery 
will  have  to  reckon  with  them." 

"I  hate  it  too,"  said  Abe.  "Down  the  Mississippi 
I  have  seen  men  and  women  sold  like  oxen.  If  I  live 
I'm  going  to  hit  that  thing  on  the  head  some  day." 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  59 

"Do  you  still  want  to  be  a  lawyer  ?"  Kelso  asked. 

"Yes,  but  sometimes  I  think  I'd  make  a  better  black- 
smith," said  Abe. 

"I  believe  you'd  do  better  with  the  hammer  of  ar- 
gument" 

"If  I  had  the  education  likely  I  would.  I'm  trying 
to  make  up  my  mind  what's  best  for  me." 

"No,  you're  trying  to  decide  what  is  best  for  your 
friends  and  your  country  and  for  the  reign  of  law  and 
justice  and  liberty." 

"But  I  think  every  man  acts  from  selfish  motives," 
Abe  insisted. 

Dr.  Allen  demurred  as  follows: 

"The  other  night  you  happened  to  remember  that 
you  had  overcharged  Mrs.  Peters  for  a  jug  of  molasses 
and  after  you  had  closed  the  store  you  walked  three 
miles  to  return  the  money  which  belonged  to  her. 
Why  did  you  do  it?" 

"For  a-selfish  motive,"  said  Abe.  "I  believe  hon- 
esty is  the  best  policy." 

"Then  you  took  that  long  walk  just  to  advertise 
your  honesty — to  induce  people  to  call  you  'Honest 
Abe'  as  they  have  begun  to  do  ?" 

"I  wouldn't  want  to  put  it  that  way,"  said  Abe. 

"But  that's  the  only  way  out,"  the  Doctor  insisted, 
"and  we  knowing  ones  would  have  to  call  you  'Sordid 
Abe.' " 

"There's  a  hidden  Abe  and  you  haven't  got  ac- 
quainted with  him  yet,"  Kelso  interposed.  "We  have 


60  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

all  caught  a  glimpse  of  him  to-night.  He's  the  Abe 
that  loves  honor  and  justice  and  humanity  and  their 
great  temple  of  freedom  that  is  growing  up  here  in 
the  new  world.  He  loves  them  better  than  fame  or 
fortune  or  life  itself.  I  think  it  must  have  been  that 
Abe  whose  voice  sounded  like  a  trumpet  just  now  and 
who  sent  you  off  to  Mrs.  Peters  with  the  money.  You 
haven't  the  chance  to  know  him  that  we  have.  Some 
day  you  two  will  get  acquainted." 

"I  don't  know  how  to  plead  to  that  indictment," 
Abe  answered.  "It  looks  so  serious  I  shall  have  to  take 
counsel." 

At  this  moment  there  was  a  loud  rap  on  the  door. 
Mr.  Kelso  opened  it  and  said :  "Hello,  Eli !  Come  in." 

A  hairy  faced,  bow  legged  man,  bent  under  a  great 
pack,  partly  covered  with  bed  ticking,  stood  in  the  door- 
way. 

"Hello,  Mr.  Kelso,"  the  bearded  man  answered. 
"The  poor  vandering  Jew  has  gome  back  ag'in — hey? 
I  tink  I  haf  to  take  de  hump  off  my  back  before  I 
gits  in." 

Staggering  beneath  his  load  he  let  it  down  to  the 
ground. 

"Bring  in  your  Trojan  horse  and  mind  you  do  not 
let  out  its  four  and  twenty  warriors  until  morning. 
I'll  have  some  bread  and  milk  for  you  in  a  minute. 
Gentlemen,  this  is  my  friend  Eli — a  wandering  pioneer 
of  trade." 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  61 

"I  haf  a  vonderful  line  o'  goods — vonderful!  von- 
derful !"  said  the  Jew,  gesturing  with  both  hands.  "Silk 
an'  satin !  De  flowers  o'  de  prairie,  de  birds  o'  de  air 
could  not  show  you  colors  like  dem.  You  vill  fall 
in  love.  If  I  do  not  let  you  have  dem  you  vill  break 
your  hearts.  An'  I  have  here  one  instrument  dot  make 
all  kind  o'  music." 

"First  supper — then  open  your  Trojan  horse,"  said 
Kelso. 

"First  I  must  show  my  goods,"  the  Jew  insisted, 
"an'  I'll  bet  you  take  dem  all — everyt'ing  vat  I  have 
in  dot  pack  an'  you  pay  my  price  an'  you  t'ank  me  an' 
say  'Eli,  vat  you  have  to  drink?' ' 

"I'll  bet  you  four  bits  I  don't,"  said  Kelso. 

"You  are  my  frient;  I  vould  not  take  your  money 
like  dot  so  easy.  No !  It  vould  not  be  right.  These 
are  Scotch  goods,  gentlemen — so  rare  an'  beautiful — - 
not'mg  like  dem  in  de  world." 

He  began  to  undo  his  pack  while  the  little  company 
stood  around  him. 

"Gentlemen,  you  can  see  but  you  can  not  buy.  Only 
my  frient  can  have  dem  goods,"  he  went  on  glibly  as 
he  removed  the  cover  of  the  pack. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  lively  stir  in  it.  To  the  amaze- 
ment of  all  a  beautiful  girl  threw  aside  the  ticking  and 
leaped  out  of  the  large  wicker  basket  it  had  covered. 
With  a  merry  laugh  she  threw  her  arms  around  Jack 
Kelso's  neck-  and  kissed  him. 


62  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

The  men  clapped  their  hands  in  noisy  merriment. 
"That's  like  Bim,  isn't  it?"  said  the  Doctor. 

"Exactly!"  Abe  exclaimed. 

"I  stop  at  David  Barney's  an'  dere  she  took  de  goods 
out  o'  my  pack  an'  fix  up  dis  job  lot  fer  you,"  said 
Eli  with  a  laugh. 

"A  real  surprise  party !"  the  girl  exclaimed. 

She  was  a  small  sized  girl,  nearing  sixteen,  with  red 
cheeks  and  hazel  eyes  and  blonde  hair  that  fell  in 
curls  upon  her  shoulders. 

"Mr.  Traylor,  this  is  my  daughter  Bim,"  said  Kelso. 
"She  is  skilled  in  the  art  of  producing  astonishment." 

"She  must  have  heard  of  that  handsome  boy  at  the 
tavern  and  got  in  a  hurry  to  come  home,"  said  the 
Doctor. 

"Ann  Rutledge  says  that  he  is  a  right  purty  boy,"  the 
girl  laughed  as  she  brushed  her  curls  aside. 

She  turned  to  Samson  Traylor  and  asked  wistfully, 
"Do  you  suppose  he  would  play  with  me?" 


CHAPTER  IV 

WHICH  PRESENTS  OTHER  LOG  CABIN  FOLK  AND  THE 
FIRST  STEPS  IN  THE  MAKING  OF  A  NEW  HOME  AND 
CERTAIN  CAPACITIES  AND  INCAPACITIES  OF  ABE. 

NEXT  morning  at  daylight  two  parties  went  out  in 
the  woods  to  cut  timber  for  the  home  of  the  new- 
comers. In  one  party  were  Harry  Needles  carrying 
two  axes  and  a  well  filled  luncheon  pail ;  Samson  with 
a  saw  in  his  hand  and  the  boy  Joe  on  his  back;  Abe 
with  saw  and  axe  and  a  small  jug  of  root  beer  and  a 
book  tied  in  a  big  red  handkerchief  and  slung  around 
his  neck.  When  they  reached  the  woods  Abe  cut  a 
pole  for  the  small  boy  and  carried  him  on  his  shoulder 
to  the  creek  and  said: 

"Now  you  sit  down  here  and  keep  order  in  this 
little  frog  city.  If  you  hear  a  frog  say  anything  im- 
proper you  fetch  him  a  whack.  Don't  allow  any  non- 
sense. We'll  make  you  Mayor  of  Frog  City." 

The  men  fell  to  with  axes  and  saws  while  Harry 
limbed  the  logs  and  looked  after  the  Mayor.  Their 
huge  muscles  flung  the  sharp  axes  into  the  timber  and 
gnawed  through  it  with  the  saw.  Many  big  trees  fell 
before  noon  time  when  they  stopped  for  luncheon. 
While  they  were  eating  Abe  said : 

"I  reckon  we  better  saw  out  a  few  boards  this  aft- 
ernoon. Need  'em  for  the  doors.  We'll  tote  a  cou- 

63 


64  rA  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

pie  of  logs  up  on  the  side  o'  that  knoll,  put  'em  on 
skids  an'  whip  'em  up  into  boards  with  the  saw." 

Samson  took  hold  of  the  middle  of  one  of  the  logs 
and  raised  it  from  the  ground. 

"I  guess  we  can  carry  'em,"  he  said. 

"Can  ye  shoulder  it  ?"  Abe  asked. 

"Easy,"  said  Samson  as  he  raised  an  end  of  the 
log,  stepped  beneath  it  and,  resting  its  weight  on  his 
back,  soon  got  his  shoulder  near  its  center  and  swung 
it  clear  of  the  ground  and  walked  with  it  to  the  knoll- 
side  where  he  let  it  fall  with  a  resounding  thump  that 
shook  the  ground.  Abe  stopped  eating  and  watched 
every  move  in  this  remarkable  performance.  The 
ease  with  which  the  big  Vermonter  had  so  defied  the 
law  of  gravitation  with  that  unwieldly  stick  amazed 
him. 

"That  thing'll  weigh  from  seven  to  eight  hundred 
pounds,"  said  he.  "I  reckon  you're  the  stoutest  man 
in  this  part  o'  the  state  an'  I'm  quite  a  man  myself. 
I've  lifted  a  barrel  o'  whisky  and  put  my  mouth  to 
the  bung  hole.  I  never  drink  it." 

"Say,"  he  added  as  he  sat  down  and  began  eating 
a  doughnut.  "If  you  ever  hit  anybody  take  a  sledge 
hammer  or  a  crowbar.  It  wouldn't  be  decent  to  use 
your  fist." 

"Don't  talk  when  you've  got  food  in  your  mouth," 
said  Joe  who  seemed  to  have  acquired  a  sense  of  re- 
sponsibility for  the  manners  of  Abe. 

"I  reckon  you're  right,"  Abe  laughed.     "A  man's 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  65 

ideas  ought  not  to  be  mingled  with  cheese  and  dough- 
nuts." 

"Once  in  a  while  I  like  to  try  myself  in  a  lift,"  said 
Samson.  "It  feels  good.  I  don't  do  it  to  show  off. 
I  know  there's  a  good  many  men  stouter  than  I  be. 
I  guess  you're  one  of  'em." 

"No,  I'm  too  stretched  out — my  neck  is  too  far  from 
the  ground,"  Abe  answered.  "I'm  like  a  crowbar.  If 
I  can  get  my  big  toe  or  my  fingers  under  anything  I 
can  pry  some." 

After  luncheon  he  took  off  his  shoes  and  socks. 

"When  I'm  working  hard  I  always  try  to  give  my 
feet  a  rest  and  my  brain  a  little  work  at  noon  time," 
he  remarked.  "My  brain  is  so  far  behind  the  proces- 
sion I  have  to  keep  putting  the  gad  on  it.  Give  me 
twenty  minutes  of  Kirkham  and  I'll  be  with  you 
again." 

He  lay  down  on  his  back  under  a  tree  with  his  book 
in  hand  and  his  feet  resting  on  the  tree  trunk  well 
above  him.  Soon  he  was  up  and  at  work  again. 

They  hewed  a  flat  surface  on  opposite  sides  of  the 
log  which  Samson  had  carried  and  peeled  it  and  raised 
its  lower  end  on  a  cross  timber.  Then  they  marked 
it  with  a  chalk  line  and  sliced  it  into  inch  boards  with 
a  whip  saw,  Abe  standing  on  top  of  the  log  and  Sam- 
son beneath  it.  Suddenly  the  saw  stopped.  A  clear, 
beautiful  voice  flung  the  music  of  Sweet  Nightingale 
into  the  timbered  hollow.  It  halted  the  workers  and 
set  the  woodland  ringing.  The  men  stood  silent  like 


66 

those  hearing1  a  benediction.  The  singing  ceased.  Still 
they  listened  for  half  a  moment.  It  was  as  if  a  spirit 
had  passed  and  touched  them. 

"It's   Bim — the  little  vixen!"   said   Abe   tenderly. 
"She's  hiding  here  in  the  woods  somewheres." 

Abe  straightened  up  and  peered  through  the  bushes. 
The  singing  ceased. 

"I  can  see  yer  curls.     Come  out  from  behind  that 
tree — you  piece  o'  Scotch  goods !"  Abe  shouted. 
Only  silence  followed  his  demand. 
"Come  on,"  Abe  persisted.     "There's  a  good-look- 
ing boy  here  and  I  want  to  introduce  you." 

"Ask  him  to  see  if  he  can  find  me,"  said  the  voice 
of  the  girl  from  a  distance. 

Abe  beckoned  to  Harry  and  pointed  to  the  tree  be- 
hind which  he  had  seen  her  hiding.  Harry  stealthily 
approached  it  only  to  find  that  she  had  gone.  He 
looked  about  for  a  moment  but  could  not  see  her. 
Soon  they  heard  a  little  call,  suggesting  elfland  trum- 
pets, in  a  distant  part  of  the  wood.  It  was  repeated 
three  or  four  times;  each  time  fainter  and  farmer. 
They  saw  and  heard  no  more  of  her  that  day. 

"She's  an  odd  child  and  as  pretty  as  a  spotted  fawn, 
and  about  as  wild,"  said  Abe.  "She's  a  kind  of  a  first 
cousin  to  the  bobolink." 

When  they  were  getting  ready  to  go  home  that  aft- 
ernoon Joe  got  into  a  great  hurry  to  see  his  mother. 
It  seemed  to  him  that  ages  had  elapsed  since  he  had 
seen  her — a  conviction  which  led  to  noisy  tears. 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  67 

Abe  knelt  before  him  and  comforted  the  boy.  Then 
he  wrapped  him  in  his  jacket  and  swung  him  in  the 
air  and  started  for  home  with  Joe  astride  his  neck. 

Samson  says  in  his  diary :  "His  tender  play  with  the 
little  lad  gave  me  another  look  at  the  man  Lincoln." 

"Some  one  proposed  once  that  we  should  call  that 
stream  the  Minnehaha,"  said  Abe  as  he  walked  along. 
"After  this  Joe  and  I  are  going  to  call  it  the  Minne- 
boohoo." 

The  women  of  the  little  village  had  met  at  a  quilt- 
ing party  at  ten  o'clock  with  Mrs.  Martin  Waddell. 
There  Sarah  had  had  a  seat  at  the  frame  and  heard  all 
the  gossip  of  the  countryside.  The  nimble  fingered 
Ann  Rutledge — a  daughter  of  the  tavern  folk — had 
sat  beside  her.  Ann  was  a  slender,  good-looking  girl 
of  seventeen  with  blue  eyes  and  a  rich  crown  of  auburn 
hair  and  a  fair  skin  well  browned  by  the  sunlight.  She 
was  the  most  dexterous  needle  worker  in  New  Salem. 
It  was  Mrs.  Peter  Lukins,  a  very  lean,  red  haired 
woman  with  only  one  eye  which  missed  no  matri- 
monial prospect — who  put  the  ball  in  play  so  to  speak. 

"Ann,  if  Honest  Abe  gits  you,  you'll  have  to  spend 
the  first  three  months  makin'  a  pair  o'  breeches  for  him. 
It'll  be  a  mile  o'  sewin'." 

"I  reckon  she'd  have  to  spend  the  rest  o'  her  life 
keepin'  the  buttons  on  'em,"  said  Mrs.  John  Cameron. 

"Abe  doesn't  want  me  and  I  don't  want  Abe  so  I 
reckon  some  other  girl  will  have  to  make  his  breeches," 
said  Ann. 


68  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

"My  lord!  but  he's  humbly,"  said  Mrs.  Alexander 
Ferguson. 

"Han'some  is  that  han'some  does,"  Mrs.  Martin 
Waddell  remarked.  "I  don't  know  anybody  that  does 
han'somer." 

"Han'some  is  that  han'some  looks  I  say,"  Mrs.  Lu- 
kins  continued  with  a  dreamy  look  in  her  eye. 

"I  like  a  man  that'll  bear  inspection — up  an'  a  corn- 
in'  an'  neat  an'  trim  as  a  buck  deer,"  Mrs.  Ferguson 
confessed. 

"An'  the  first  ye  know  he's  up  an'  a  goin',"  said  Mrs. 
Samuel  Hill.  "An  then  all  ye  have  to  look  at  is  a 
family  o'  children  an'  the  empty  bread  box." 

"Wait  until  Abe  has  shed  his  coat  an'  is  filled  out  a 
little.  He'll  be  a  good-lookin'  man  an'  I  wouldn't  wen- 
der,"  Mrs.  Waddell  maintained. 

"If  Abe  lives  he'll  be  a  great  man,  I  think,"  said 
Mrs.  Dr.  Allen.  "I  forgot  how  he  looked  when  I 
heard  him  talking  the  other  night  at  the  debate  in  the 
schoolhouse  about  the  flogging  of  sailors  with  the 
cat  o'  nine  tails.  He  has  a  wonderful  gift.  If  I  were 
Ann  I  should  be  proud  of  his  friendship  and  proud  to 
go  with  him  to  the  parties." 

"I  am,"  said  Ann  meekly,  with  her  eyes  upon  her 
work.  "I  love  to-  hear  him  talk,  too." 

"Oh,  land  o'  mercy!  He's  good  company  if  you 
only  use  your  ears,"  Mrs.  Ferguson  remarked.  "Mis' 
Traylor,  where  did  you  git  your  man  ?" 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  69 

"At  Vergennes.  We  were  born  in  the  same  neigh- 
borhood and  grew  up  together,"  said  Sarah. 

"Now  there's  the  kind  of  a  man !  Stout  as  a  buffalo 
an'  as  to  looks  I'd  call  him,  as  ye  might  say,  real 
copasetic."  Mrs.  Lukins  expressed  this  opinion  sol- 
emnly and  with  a  slight  cough.  Its  last  word  stood 
for  nothing  more  than  an  indefinite  depth  of  mean- 
ing. She  added  by  way  of  drawing  the  curtain  of 
history:  "I'll  bet  he  didn't  dilly  dally  long  when  he 
made  up  his  mind.  I  reckon  he  were  plum  owdacious." 

"What  a  pretty  pattern  this  is!"  said  Sarah  with 
a  sudden  shift  of  front. 

Mrs.  Lukins  was  not  to  be  driven  from  the  Elysian 
fields  so  easily  and  forthwith  she  told  the  story  of 
her  own  courtship. 

A  bountiful  dinner  of  stewed  venison  and  chicken 
pie  and  tea  and  frosted  cake  was  served,  all  hands 
turning  in  to  help  with  the  table  and  the  cleaning  up. 
While  they  were  eating  Sarah  told  of  her  long  jour- 
ney and  their  trials  with  fever  and  ague. 

"It's  the  worst  part  of  going  west  but  it  really  isn't 
very  dangerous,"  said  Mrs.  Dr.  Allen. 

"Nine  scoops  o'  water  in  the  holler  o'  the  hand  from 
a  good  spring  for  three  mornin's  before  sunrise  an' 
strong  coffee  with  lemon  juice  will  break  the  ager 
every  time,"  said  Mrs.  Lukins.  "My  gran'  mammy 
used  to  say  it  were  better  than  all  the  doctors  an'  I've 
tried  it  an'  know  what  it'll  do." 


70  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

"I  suppose  if  you  got  ten  scoops  it  would  be  no 
good,"  said  Sarah  with  a  laugh  in  which  Mrs.  Allen 
and  some  of  the  others  joined. 

Mrs.  Lukins  looked  offended.  "When  I'm  takin' 
medicine  I  always  foller  directions,"  said  she. 

So  the  day  passed  with  them  and  was  interrupted 
by  the  noisy  entrance  of  Joe,  soon  after  candlelight, 
who  climbed  on  the  back  of  his  mother's  chair  and 
kissed  her  and  in  breathless  eagerness  began  to  relate 
the  history  of  his  own  day. 

That  ended  the  quilting  party  and  Sarah  and  Mrs. 
Rutledge  and  Ann  joined  Samson  and  Abe  and  Harry 
Needles  who  were  waiting  outside  and  walked  to  the 
tavern  with  them. 

John  McNeil,  whom  the  Traylors  had  met  on  the 
road  near  Niagara  Falls  and  who  had  shared  their 
camp  with  them,  arrived  on  the  stage  that  evening. 
He  was  dressed  in  a  new  butternut  suit  and  clean  linen 
and  looked  very  handsome.  Samson  writes  that  he 
resembled  the  pictures  of  Robert  Emmet.  With  fine, 
dark  eyes,  a  smooth  skin,  well  moulded  features  and 
black  hair  neatly  brushed  on  a  shapely  head  he  was 
not  at  all  like  the  rugged  Abe.  In  a  low  tone  and  very 
modestly,  with  a  slight  brogue  on  his  tongue  he  told 
of  his  adventures  on  the  long,  shore  road  to  Michigan. 
Ann  sat  listening  and  looking  into  his  face  as  he  talked. 
Abe  came  in,  soon  after  eight  o'clock,  and  was  intro- 
duced to  the  stranger.  All  noted  the  contrast  between 
the  two  young  men  as  they  greeted  each  other.  Abe 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  71 

sat  down  for  a  few  minutes  and  looked  sadly  into  the 
fire  but  said  nothing.  He  rose  presently,  excused  him- 
self and  went  away. 

Soon  Samson  followed  him.  Over  at  Offut's  store 
he  did  not  find  Abe,  but  Bill  Berry  was  drawing  liquor 
from  the  spigot  of  a  barrel  set  on  blocks  in  a  shed  con- 
nected with  the  rear  end  of  the  store  and  serving  it 
to  a  number  of  hilarious  young  Irishmen.  His  shirt 
was  soiled.  Its  morning-glories  had  grown  dim  in  a 
kind  of  dusty  twilight.  The  young  men  asked  Samson 
to  join  them. 

"No,  thank  you.     I  never  touch  it,"  he  said. 

"We'll  come  over  here  an'  learn  ye  how  to  enjoy 
yerself  some  day,"  one  of  them  said. 

"I'm  pretty  well  posted  on  that  subject  now,"  Sam- 
son answered. 

It  is  likely  that  they  would  have  begun  his  schooling 
at  once  but  when  they  came  out  into  the  store  and 
saw  the  big  Vermonter  standing  in  the  candlelight 
their  laughter  ceased  for  a  moment.  Bill  was  among 
them  with  a  well  filled  bottle  in  his  hand. 

He  and  the  others  got  into  a  wagon  which  had  been 
waiting  at  the  door  and  drove  away  with  a  wild  In- 
dian whoop  from  the  lips  of  one  of  the  young  men. 

Samson  sat  down  in  the  candlelight  and  Abe  in  a 
moment  arrived. 

"I'm  getting  awful  sick  o'  this  business,"  said  Abe. 

"I  kind  o'  guess  you  don't  like  the  whisky  part  of 
it,"  Samson  remarked,  as  he  felt  a  piece  of  cloth. 


72  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

"I  hate  it,"  Abe  went  on.  "It  don't  seem  respectable 
any  longer." 

"Back  in  Vermont  we  don't  like  the  whisky  business." 

"You're  right,  it  breeds  deviltry  and  disorder.  In 
my  youth  I  was  surrounded  by  whisky.  Everybody 
drank  it.  A  bottle  or  a  jug  of  liquor  was  thought  to 
be  as  legitimate  a  piece  of  merchandise  as  a  pound 
of  tea  or  a  yard  of  calico.  That's  the  way  I've  always 
thought  of  it.  But  lately  I've  begun  to  get  the  Yankee 
notion  about  whisky.  When  it  gets  into  bad  company 
it  can  raise  the  devil." 

Soon  after  nine  o'clock  Abe  drew  a  mattress  rilled 
with  corn  husks  from  under  the  counter,  cleared  away 
the  bolts  of  cloth  and  laid  i't  where  they  had  been 
and  covered  it  with  a  blanket. 

"This  is  my  bed,"  said  he.  "I'll  be  up  at  five  in  the 
morning.  Then  I'll  be  making  tea  here  by  the  fire- 
place to  wash  down  some  jerked  meat  and  a  hunk  o* 
bread.  At  six  or  a  little  after  I'll  be  ready  to  go  with 
you  again.  Jack  Kelso  is  going  to  look  after  the 
store  to-morrow." 

He  began  to  laugh. 

"Ye  know  when  I  went  out  of  the  tavern  that  little 
vixen  stood  peekin'  into  the  window — >Bim,  Jack's 
girl,"  said  Abe.  "I  asked  her  why  she  didn't  go  in 
and  she  said  she  was  scared.  'Who  you  'fraid  of?' 
I  asked.  'Oh,  I  reckon  that  boy/  says  she.  And  hon- 
estly her  hand  trembled  when  she  took  hold  of  my  arm 
and  walked  to  her  father's  house  with  me." 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  73 

Abe  snickered  as  he  spread  another  blanket.  "What 
a  cut-up  she  is!  Say,  we'll  have  some  fun  watching 
them  two  I  reckon,"  he  said. 

The  logs  were  ready  two  days  after  the  cutting  be- 
gan. Martin  Waddell  and  Samuel  Hill  sent  teams  to 
haul  them.  John  Cameron  and  Peter  Lukins  had 
brought  the  window  sash  and  some  clapboards  from 
Beardstown  in  a  small  flat  boat.  Then  came  the  day 
of  the  raising — a  clear,  warm  day  early  in  September. 
All  the  men  from  the  village  and  the  near  farms  gath- 
ered to  help  make  a  home  for  the  newcomers.  Sam- 
son and  Jack  Kelso  went  out  for  a  hunt  after  the  cut- 
ting and  brought  in  a  fat  buck  and  many  grouse  for 
the  bee  dinner,  to  which  every  woman  of  the  neighbor- 
hood made  a  contribution  of  cake  or  pie  or  cookies  or 
doughnuts. 

"What  will  be  my  part?"  Samson  had  inquired  of 
Kelso. 

"Nothing  but  a  jug  of  whisky  and  a  kind  word  and 
a  house  warming,"  Kelso  had  answered. 

They  notched  and  bored  the  logs  and  made  pins 
to  bind  them  and  cut  those  that  were  to  go  around 
the  fireplace  and  window  spaces.  Strong,  willing  and 
well  trained  hands  hewed  and  fitted  the  logs  together. 
Alexander  Ferguson  lined  the  fireplace  with  a  curious 
mortar  made  of  clay  in  which  he  mixed  grass  for  a 
binder.  This  mortar  he  rolled  into  layers  called 
"cats,"  each  eight  inches  long  and  three  inches  thick. 
Then  he  laid  them  against  the  logs  and  held  them  in 


74  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

place  with  a  woven  network  of  sticks.  The  first  fire 
— a  slow  one — baked  the  clay  into  a  rigid  stone-like 
sheath  inside  the  logs  and  presently  the  sticks  were 
burned  away.  The  women  had  cooked  the  meats  by  an 
open  fire  and  spread  the  dinner  on  a  table  of  rough 
boards  resting  on  poles  set  in  crotches.  At  noon  one 
of  them  sounded  a  conch  shell.  Then  with  shouts  of 
joy  the  men  hurried  to  the  fireside  and  for  a  moment 
there  was  a  great  spluttering  over  the  wash  basins. 
Before  they  ate  every  man  except  Abe  and  Samson 
"took  a  pull  at  the  jug — long  or  short" — to  quote  a 
phrase  of  the  time. 

It  was  a  cheerful  company  that  sat  down  upon  the 
grass  around  the  table  with  loaded  plates.  Their  food 
had  its  extra  seasoning  of  merry  jests  and  loud  laugh- 
ter. Sarah  was  a  little  shocked  at  the  forthright  direct- 
ness of  their  eating,  no  knives  or  forks  or  napkins 
being  needed  in  that  process.  Having  eaten,  washed 
and  packed  away  their  dishes  the  women  went  home 
at  two.  Before  they  had  gone  Samson's  ears  caught 
a  thunder  of  horses'  feet  in  the  distance.  Looking 
in  its  direction  he  saw  a  cloud  of  dust  in  the  road  and 
a  band  of  horsemen  riding  toward  them  at  full  speed. 
Abe  came  to  him  and  said : 

"I  see  the  boys  from  Clary's  Grove  are  coming.  If 
they  get  mean  let  me  deal  with  'em.  It's  my  respon- 
sibility. I  wouldn't  wonder  if  they  had  some  of  Off- 
ut's  whisky  with  them." 

The  boys  arrived  in  a  cloud  of  dust  and  a  chorus 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  75 

of  Indian  whoops  and  dismounted  and  hobbled  their 
horses.  They  came  toward  the  workers,  led  by  burly 
Jack  Armstrong,  a  stalwart,  hard-faced  blacksmith  of 
about  twenty-two  with  broad,  heavy  shoulders,  whose 
name  has  gone  into  history.  They  had  been  drink- 
ing some  but  no  one  of  them  was  in  the  least  degree 
off  his  balance.  They  scuffled  around  the  jug  for  a 
moment  in  perfect  good  nature  and  then  Abe  and  Mrs. 
.Waddell  provided  them  with  the  best  remnants  of  the 
dinner.  They  were  rather  noisy.  Soon  they  went 
tip  on  the  roof  to  help  with  the  rafters  and  the  clap- 
boarding.  They  worked  well  a  few  minutes  and  sud- 
denly they  came  scrambling  down  for  another  pull 
at  the  jug.  They  were  out  for  a  spree  and  Abe  knew 
it  and  knew  further  that  they  had  reached  the  limit 
of  discretion. 

"Boys,  there  are  ladies  here  and  we've  got  to  be 
careful,"  he  said.  "Did  I  ever  tell  you  what  Uncle 
Jerry  Holman  said  of  his  bull  calf?  He  said  the  calf 
was  such  a  suckcess  that  he  didn't  leave  any  milk  for 
the  family  and  that  while  the  calf  was  growin'  fat 
the  children  was  growin'  poor.  In  my  opinion  you're 
about  fat  enough  for  the  present.  Le's  stick  to  the 
job  till  four  o'clock.  Then  we'll  knock  off  for  refresh- 
ments." 

The  young  revelers  gathered  in  a  group  and  began 
to  whisper  together.  Samson  writes  that  it  became  evi- 
dent then  they  were  going  to  make  trouble  and  says : 


;6  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

"We  had  left  the  children  at  Rutledge's  in  the  care 
of  Ann.  I  went  to  Sarah  and  told  her  she  had  better 
go  on  and  see  if  they  were  all  right. 

"  'Don't  you  get  in  any  fight,'  she  said,  which  shows 
that  the  women  knew  what  was  in  the  air. 

"Sarah  led  the  way  and  the  others  followed  her." 

Those  big,  brawny  fellows  from  the  grove  when 
they  got  merry  were  looking  always  for  a  chance  to 
get  mad  at  some  man  and  turn  him  into  a  plaything. 
A  victim  had  been  a  necessary  part  of  their  sprees. 
Many  a  poor  fellow  had  been  fastened  in  a  barrel 
and  rolled  down  hill  or  nearly  drowned  in  a  ducking 
for  their  amusement.  A  chance  had  come  to  get  mad 
and  they  were  going  to  make  the  most  of  it.  They 
began  to  growl  with  resentment.  Some  were  wigging 
their  leader  Jack  Armstrong  to  fight  Abe.  One  of 
them  ran  to  his  horse  and  brought  a  bottle  from  his 
saddle-bag.  It  began  passing  from  mouth  to  mouth. 
Jack  Armstrong  got  the  bottle  before  it  was  half 
emptied,  drained  it  and  flung  it  high  in  the  air.  An- 
other called  him  a  hog  and  grappled  him  around  the 
waist  and  there  was  a  desperate  struggle  which  ended 
quickly.  Armstrong  got  a  hold  on  the  neck  of  his  as- 
sailant and  choked  him  until  he  let  go.  This  was  not 
enough  for  the  sturdy  bully  of  Clary's  Grove.  He 
seized  his  follower  and  flung  him  so  roughly  on  the 
ground  that  the  latter  lay  for  a  moment  stunned. 
Armstrong  had  got  his  blood  warm  and  was  now  ready 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  77 

for  action.  With  a  wild  whoop  he  threw  off  his  coat, 
unbuttoned  his  right  shirt-sleeve  and  rolled  it  to  the 
shoulder  and  declared  in  a  loud  voice,  as  he  swung 
his  arm  in  the  air,  that  he  could  "out  jump,  out  hop, 
out  run,  throw  down,  drag  out  an'  lick  any  man  in 
New  Salem." 

In  a  letter  to  his  father  Samson  writes : 

"Abe  was  working  at  my  elbow.  I  saw  him  drop 
his  hammer  and  get  up  and  make  for  the  ladder.  I 
knew  something  was  going  to  happen  and  I  followed 
him.  In  a  minute  every  one  was  off  the  roof  and  out 
of  the  building.  I  guess  they  knew  what  was  com- 
ing. The  big  lad  stood  there  swinging  his  arm  and 
yelling  like  an  Injun.  It  was  a  big  arm  and  muscled 
and  corded  up  some  but  I  guess  if  I'd  shoved  the 
calico  off  mine  and  held  it  up  he'd  a  pulled  down  his 
sleeve.  I  suppose  the  feller's  arm  had  a  kind  of  a 
mule's  kick  in  it,  but,  good  gracious!  If  he'd  a  seen 
as  many  arms  as  you  an'  I  have  that  have  growed 
up  on  a  hickory  helve  he'd  a  known  that  his  was  noth- 
ing to  brag  of.  I  didn't  know  just  how  good  a  man 
Abe  was  and  I  was  kind  o'  scairt  for  a  minute.  I 
never  found  i't  so  hard  work  to  do  nothin'  as  I  did 
then.  Honest  my  hands  kind  o'  ached.  I  wanted  to 
go  an'  cuff  that  feller's  ears  an'  grab  hold  o'  him  an' 
toss  him  over  the  ridge  pole.  Abe  went  right  up  to 
him  an'  sai'd : 

"  'Jack,  you  ain't  half  so  bad  or  half  so  cordy  as  ye 
think  ye  are.  You  say  you  can  throw  down  any  man 
here.  I  reckon  I'll  have  to  show  ye  that  you're  mis- 
taken. I'll  rassle  with  ye.  We're  friends  an'  we  won't 


78  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

talk  about  lickin'  each  other.  Le's  have  a  friendly 
rassle.' 

"In  a  second  the  two  men  were  locked  together. 
Armstrong  had  lunged  at  Abe  with  a  yell.  There  was 
no  friendship  in  the  way  he  took  hold.  He  was  going 
to  do  all  the  damage  he  could  in  any  way  he  could. 
He  tried  to  butt  with  his  head  and  ram  his  knee  into 
Abe's  stomach  as  soon  as  they  came  together.  Half 
drunk  Jack  is  a  man  who  would  bite  your  ear  off.  It 
was  no  rassle;  it  was  a  fight.  Abe  moved  like  light- 
ning. He  acted  awful  limber  an'  well  greased.  In  a 
second  he  had  got  hold  of  the  feller's  neck  with  his 
big  right  hand  and  hooked  his  left  into  the  cloth  on 
his  hip.  In  that  way  he  held  him  off  and  shook  him 
as  you've  seen  our  dog  shake  a  woodchuck.  Abe's 
blood  was  hot.  If  the  whole  crowd  had  piled  on  him 
I  guess  he  would  have  come  out  all  right,  for  when 
he's  roused  there's  something  in  Abe  more  than  bones 
and  muscles.  I  suppose  it's  what  I  feel  when  he  speaks 
a  piece.  It's  a  kind  of  lightning.  I  guess  it's  what 
our  minister  used  to  call  the  power  of  the  spirit.  Abe 
said  to  me  afterwards  that  he  felt  as  if  he  was  fight- 
ing for  the  peace  and  honor  of  New  Salem. 

"A  friend  of  the  bully  jumped  in  and  tried  to  trip 
Abe.  Harry  Needles  stood  beside  me.  Before  I  could 
move  he  dashed  forward  and  hit  that  feller  in  the  mid- 
dle of  his  forehead  and  knocked  hi'm  flat.  Harry  had 
hit  Bap  McNoll  the  cock  fighter.  I  got  up  next  to  the 
kettle  then  and  took  the  scum  off  it.  Fetched  one  of 
them  devils  a  slap  with  the  side  of  my  hand  that  took 
the  skin  off  his  face  and  rolled  him  over  and  over. 
When  I  looked  again  Armstrong  was  going  limp.  His 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  79 

mouth  was  open  and  his  tongue  out.  With  one  hand 
fastened  to  his  right  leg  and  the  other  on  the  nape 
of  his  neck  Abe  lifted  him  at  arm's  length  and  gave 
him  a  toss  in  the  air.  Armstrong  fell  about  ten  feet 
from  where  Abe  stood  and  lay  there  for  a  minute.  The 
fight  was  all  out  of  him  and  he  was  kind  of  dazed  and 
sick.  Abe  stood  up  like  a  giant  and  his  face  looked 
awful  solemn. 

"  'Boys,  if  there's  any  more  o'  you  that  want  trou- 
ble you  can  have  some  off  the  same  piece,'  he  said. 

"They  hung  their  heads  and  not  one  of  them  made 
a  move  or  said  a  word.  Abe  went  to  Armstrong  and 
helped  him  up. 

"  'Jack,  I'm  sorry  that  I  had  to  hurt  you/  he  said. 
'You  get  on  to  your  horse  and  go  home.' 

"  'Abe,  you're  a  better  man  than  me,'  said  the  bully, 
as  he  offered  his  hand  to  Abe.  Til  do  anything  you 
say.' " 

So  the  Clary's  Grove  gang  was  conquered.  They 
were  to  make  more  trouble  but  not  again  were  they 
to  imperil  the  foundations  of  law  and  order  in  the 
little  community  of  New  Salem.  As  they  were  start- 
ing away  Bap  McNoll  turned  to  Harry  Needles  and 
shouted:  "I'll  git  even  with  you  yet — you  slab-sided 
son  of  a  dog." 

That  is  not  exactly  what  he  said  but  it  is  near 
enough. 


CHAPTER  V 

IN  WHICH  THE  CHARACTER  OF  BIM  KELSO  FLASHES  OUT 
IN  A  STRANGE  ADVENTURE  THAT  BEGINS  THE  WEAV- 
ING OF  A  LONG  THREAD  OF  ROMANCE. 

THE  shell  of  the  cabin  was  finished  that  day.  Its 
puncheon  floor  was  in  place  but  its  upper  floor  was  to 
be  laid  when  the  boards  were  ready.  Its  two  doors 
were  yet  to  be  made  and  hung,  its  five  windows  to  be 
fitted  and  made  fast,  its  walls  to  be  chinked  with  clay 
mortar.  Samson  and  Harry  stayed  that  evening  after 
the  rest  were  gone,  smoothing  the  puncheon  floor. 
They  made  a  few  nails  at  the  forge  after  supper  and 
went  over  to  Abe's  store  about  nine.  Two  of  the 
Clary's  Grove  Gang  who  had  tarried  in  the  village  sat 
in  the  gloom  of  its  little  veranda  apparently  asleep. 
Dr.  Allen,  Jack  Kelso,  Alexander  Ferguson  and  Mar- 
tin Waddell  were  sitting  by  its  fireside  while  Abe  sat 
on  the  counter  with  his  legs  hanging  off. 

"He's  a  tough  oak  stick  of  a  man,"  Kelso  was  say- 
ing. 

"Here  he  is  now,"  said  Dr.  Allen.  "That  lad  you 
cuffed  had  to  stop  at  my  office  for  repairs." 

"I  told  you  once  to  use  a  crowbar  if  you  wanted  to 
hit  anybody,  but  never  to  use  your  hands,"  said  Abe. 

80 


8i 

"Well  there  wasn't  any  time  to  lose  and  there  was 
no  crowbar  handy,"  said  Samson. 

"That  reminds  me  of  a  general  who  made  the  boys 
of  his  regiment  promise  to  let  him  do  all  the  swearin'," 
Abe  began.  "One  day  a  sergeant  got  into  trouble  with 
a  mule  team.  It  was  raining  hard  and  the  off  mule 
balked.  Wouldn't  draw  a  pound.  The  sergeant  got 
wet  to  the  skin  and  swore  a  song  of  fourteen  verses 
that  was  heard  by  half  the,  regiment.  The  general 
called  him  up  for  discipline. 

"  'Young  man,  I  thought  it  was  understood  that  I 
was  to  do  all  the  swearin'/  he  said. 

"  'So  it  was,'  said  the  sergeant,  'but  that  swearin' 
had  to  be  done  right  away.  You  couldn't  'a'  got  there 
in  time  to  do  it  if  I'd  'a'  sent  for  ye.' ' 

"I'm  sorry  we  had  to  have  trouble,"  Samson  re- 
marked, after  the  outburst  of  appreciation  that  fol- 
lowed Abe's  story.  "It's  the  only  spot  on  the  day.  I'll 
never  forget  the  kindness  of  the  people  of  New  Salem." 

"The  raising  bee  is  a  most  significant  thing,"  said 
Kelso.  "Democracy  tends  to  universal  friendship — 
each  works  for  the  crowd  and  the  crowd  for  each 
and  there  are  no  favorites.  Every  community  is  like 
the  thousand  friends  of  Thebes.  Most  of  its  units 
stand  together  for  the  common  good — for  justice,  law 
and  honor.  The  schools  are  spinning  strands  of  de- 
mocracy out  of  all  this  European  wool.  Railroads 
are  to  pick  them  up  and  weave  them  into  one  great 


82  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

fabric.  By  and  by  we  shall  see  the  ten  million  friends 
of  America  standing  together  as  did  the  thousand 
friends  of  Thebes." 

"It's  a  great  thought,"  said  Abe. 

"No  man  can  estimate  the  size  of  that  mighty  pha- 
lanx of  friendship  all  trained  in  one  school,"  Kelso 
went  on.  "Two  years  ago  the  Encyclopedia  Britannica 
figured  that  the  population  of  the  United  States  in 
1905  would  be  168,000,000  people,  and  in  1966,  672,- 
000,000.  Wealth,  power,  science,  literature,  all  follow 
in  the  train  of  light  and  numbers.  The  causes  which 
moved  the  sceptre  of  civilization  from  the  Euphrates 
to  Western  Europe  will  carry  it  from  the  latter  to 
the  New  World." 

"They  say  that  electricity  and  the  development  of 
the  steam  engine  is  going  to  make  all  men  think  alike," 
said  Abe.  "If  that's  so  Democracy  and  Liberty  will 
spread  over  the  earth." 

"The  seed  of  Universal  Brotherhood  is  falling  far 
and  wide  and  you  can  not  kill  it,"  Kelso  continued. 
"Last  year  Mazzini  said :  'There  is  only  one  sun  in 
heaven  for  the  whole  earth,  only  one  law  for  all  who 
people  it.  We  are  here  to  found  fraternally  the  unity 
of  the  human  race  so  that,  sometime,  it  may  present 
but  one  fold  and  one  Shepherd.' ' 

Then  Lincoln  spoke  again:  "I  reckon  we  are  near 
the  greatest  years  in  history.  It  is  a  privilege  to  be 


83 

"And  young,"  Dr.  Allen  added. 
"Young!    What  a  God's  blessed  thing  is  that!"  said 
Kelso  and  then  he  quoted  from  Coleridge : 

"  'Verse,  a  breeze  mid  blossoms  straying 
Where  Hope  clung  feeding  like  a  bee, 
Both  were  mine!    Life  went  a  maying 
With  Nature,  Hope  and  Poesy 
When  I  was  young !' 

"Abe,  have  ye  learned  the  Cotters  Saturday  Night  f" 

"Not  yet.  It's  a  heavy  hog  to  hold  but  I'll  get  a 
grip  on  an  ear  and  a  hind  leg  and  lift  it  out  o'  the 
pen  before  long.  You  see." 

"Don't  fail  to  do  that.  It  will  be  a  help  and  joy 
to  ye." 

"Old  Kirkham  is  a  hard  master,"  said  Abe.  "I 
hear  his  bell  ringing  every  time  I  get  a  minute's  leisure. 
I'm  nigh  through  with  him.  Now  I  want  to  study 
rhetoric." 

"Only  schoolmasters  study  rhetoric,"  Kelso  declared. 
"A  real  poet  or  a  real  orator  is  born  with  all  the 
rhetoric  he  needs.  We  should  get  our  rhetoric  as  we 
get  our  oxygen — unconsciously — by  reading  the  mas- 
ters. Rhetoric  is  a  steed  for  a  light  load  under  the 
saddle  but  he's  too  warm  blooded  for  the  harness.  He 
was  for  the  day  of  the  plumed  knight — not  for  these 
times.  No  man  of  sense  would  use  a  prancing  horse 
on  a  plow  or  a  stone  boat.  A  good  plow  horse  is  a 


84  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

beautiful  thing.  The  play  of  his  muscles,  the  power  of 
his  stride  are  poetry  to  me  but  when  he  tries  to  put 
on  style  he  is  ridiculous.  That  suggests  what  rhet- 
oric is  apt  to  do  to  the  untrained  intellect.  If  you've 
anything  to  say  or  write  head  straight  across  the  field 
and  keep  your  eye  on  the  furrow.  Then  comes  the 
sowing  and  how  beautiful  is  the  sower  striding  across 
the  field  in  his  suit  of  blue  jeans,  with  that  wonderful 
gesture,  so  graceful,  so  imperious!  Put  him  in  a 
beaver  hat  and  broadcloth  and  polished  calfskin  and  a 
frilled  shirt  and  you  couldn't  think  of  anything  more 
ridiculous !" 

In  the  last  diary  of  Samson  Henry  Traylor  is  this 
entry: 

"I  went  to  Gettysburg  with  the  President  to-day  and 
sat  near  him  when  he  spoke.  Mr.  Everett  addressed 
the  crowd  for  an  hour  or  so.  As  Kelso  would  say 
'He  rode  the  prancing  steel  of  Rhetoric.'  My  old 
friend  went  straight  across  the  field  and  his  look  and 
gestures  reminded  me  of  that  picture  of  the  sower 
which  Jack  gave  us  one  night  long  ago  in  Abe's  store. 
Through  my  tears  I  could  see  the  bucket  hanging  on 
his  elbow  and  the  good  seed  flying  far  and  wide  from 
his  great  hand.  When  he  finished  the  field,  plowed 
and  harrowed  and  fertilized  by  war,  had  been  sowed 
for  all  time.  The  spring's  work  was  done  and  well 
done." 

At  a  quarter  of  ten  the  Doctor  rose  and  said : 


85 

"We're  keeping1  Abe  from  his  sleep  and  wearing  the 
night  away  with  philosophy.  I'm  going  home." 

"I  came  over  to  see  if  you  could  find  a  man  to  help 
me  to-morrow,"  Samson  said  to  Abe.  "Harry  is  go- 
ing over  to  do  the  chinking  alone.  I  want  a  man  to 
help  me  on  the  whipsaw  while  I  cut  some  boards  for 
the  upper  flooring." 

"I'll  help  you  myself,"  Abe  proposed.  "I  reckon 
I'll  close  the  store  to-morrow  unless  Jack  will  tend  it." 

"You  can  count  on  me,"  said  Jack.  "I'm  short  of 
sleep  anyhow  and  a  day  of  rest  will  do  me  good." 

Abe  went  with  his  friends  to  the  door  beyond  which 
the  two  boys  from  Clary's  Grove  sat  as  if  sound 
asleep.  It  is  probable,  however,  that  they  had  heard 
what*  Samson  had  said  to  Abe. 

"Well,  I  didn't  know  these  wild  turkeys  were  roost- 
ing here,"  Abe  laughed.  He  roused  them  from  their 
slumbers  and  said:  "Boys,  you're  trying  to  saw  the 
day  off  a  little  too  short.  It's  got  to  run  till  you  get  to 
Clary's  Grove.  Better  take  those  horses  home  and 
feed  'em." 

The  boys  got  up  and  yawned  and  stretched  them- 
selves and  mounted  their  horses  which  had  been  tied 
to  a  bar  and  rode  away  in  the  darkness. 

Next  morning  Abe  and  Samson  set  out  for  the 
woods  soon  after  daylight. 

"I  like  that  boy  Harry,"  said  Abe.  "I  reckon  he's 
got  good  stuff  in  him.  The  way  he  landed  on  Bap 


86  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

McNoll  was  a  caution.  I  like  to  see  a  feller  come  right 
up  to  the  scratch,  without  an  invitation  just  in  the  nick 
o'  time,  as  he  did." 

"Did  you  see  him  jump  in?"    Samson  asked. 

"I  saw  everything  some  way.  I  saw  you  when  ye 
loosened  the  ear  o'  John  Callyhan.  That  tickled  me. 
But  the  way  I  felt  yesterday — honest,  it  seemed  as  if 
I  could  handle  'em  all.  That  boy  Harry  is  a  likely 
young  colt — strong  and  limber  and  well  put  together 
and  broad  between  the  eyes." 

"An'  gentle  as  a  kitten,"  Samson  added.  "There 
never  was  a  better  face  on  a  boy  or  a  better  heart  be- 
hind it  We  like  him." 

"Yes,  sir.  He's  a  well  topped  young  tree — straight 
and  sound  and  good  timber.  Looks  as  if  that  little 
girl  o'  Jack's  was  terribly  took  up  with  him.  I  don't 
wonder.  There  are  not  many  boys  like  Harry  around 
here." 

"What  kind  of  a  girl  is  she?"    Samson  asked. 

"Awful  shy  since  the  arrow  hit  her.  She  don't 
know  what  it  means  yet.  She'll  get  used  to  that  I 
reckon.  She's  a  good  girl  and  smart  as  a  steel  trap. 
'Her  father  takes  her  out  on  the  plains  with  him  shoot- 
ing. She  can  handle  a  gun  as  well  as  anybody  and 
ride  a  horse  as  if  she  had  growed  to  his  back.  Every 
body  likes  Bim  but  she  has  her  own  way  of  behaving 
and  sometimes  it's  awful  new-fashioned." 

Harry  Needles  went  whistling  up  the  road  toward 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  87 

the  new  house  with  sickle,  hoe  and  trowel.  As  he 
passed  the  Kelso  cabin  he  whistled  the  tune  of  Sweet 
Nightingale.  It  had  haunted  his  mind  since  he  had 
heard  it  in  the  woods.  He  whistled  as  loudly  as  ever 
he  could  and  looked  at  the  windows.  Before  he  had 
passed  Bim's  face  looked  out  at  him  with  a  smile  and 
her  hand  flickered  back  of  the  panes  and  he  waved 
his  to  her.  His  heart  beat  fast  as  he  hurried  along. 

"I'm  not  so  very  young,"  he  said  to  himself.  "I 
wish  I  hadn't  put  on  these  old  clothes.  Mrs.  Traylor 
is  an  awful  nice  woman  but  she's  determined  to  make 
me  look  like  a  plow  horse.  I  don't  see  why  she  couldn't 
let  me  wear  decent  clothes." 

Sarah  had  enjoyed  mothering  the  boy.  His  health 
had  returned.  His  cheeks  were  ruddy,  his  dark  eyes 
clear  and  bright,  his  tall  form  erect  and  sturdy.  More- 
over the  affectionate  care  his  new  friends  had  given 
him  and  his  interest  in  the  girl  filled  his  heart  with 
the  happiness  which  is  the  rain  of  youth  and  without 
which  it  becomes  an  arid  desert. 

He  had  helped  Alexander  Ferguson  with  the  mak- 
ing of  the  fireplace  and  knew  how  to  mix  the  mortar. 
He  worked  with  a  will  for  his  heart  was  in  the  new 
home.  It  was  a  fine  September  morning.  The  warm 
sunlight  had  set  the  meadow  cocks  a  crowing.  The 
far  reaches  of  the  great,  grassy  plain  were  dimmed 
with  haze.  It  was  a  vast,  flowery  wilderness,  waving 
and  murmuring  in  the  breeze  like  an  ocean.  How  long 


88  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

those  acres,  sown  by  .the  winds  of  heaven,  had  waited 
for  the  plowman  now  arrived! 

Harry  felt  the  beauty  of  the  scene  but  saw  and  en- 
joyed more  the  face  of  Bim  Kelso  as  he  worked  and 
planned  his  own  house — no  cabin  but  a  mansion  like 
that  of  Judge  Harper  in  the  village  near  his  old  home. 
He  had  filled  every  crevice  in  the  rear  wall  and  was 
working  on  the  front  when  he  heard  the  thunder  of 
running  horses  and  saw  those  figures,  dim  in  a  cloud 
of  dust,  flying  up  the  road  again.  He  thought  of  the 
threat  of  Bap  McNoll.  It  occurred  to  him  that  he 
would  be  in  a  bad  way  alone  with  those  ruffians  if 
they  were  coming  for  revenge.  He  stepped  into  the 
door  of  the  house  and  stood  a  moment  debating  what 
he  would  best  do.  He  thought  of  running  toward  the 
grove,  which  was  a  few  rods  from  the  rear  door  of  the 
house,  and  hiding  there.  He  couldn't  bear  to  run. 
Bim  and  all  the  rest  of  them  would  hear  of  it.  So 
with  the  sickle  in  his  right  hand  he  stood  v/aiting  in- 
side the  house  and  hoping  they  wouldn't  stop.  They 
rode  up  to  the  door  and  dismounted  quietly  and  hob- 
bled their  horses.  There  were  five  of  them  who  crowd- 
ed into  the  cabin  with  McNoll  in  the  lead. 

"Now,  you  young  rooster,  you're  goin'  to  git  what's 
comin'  to  you,"  he  growled. 

The  boy  faced  them  bravely  and  warned  them  away 
with  his  sickle.  They  were  prepared  for  such  emer- 
gencies. One  of  them  drew  a  bag  of  bird  shot  from 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  89 

his  pocket  and  hurled  it  at  Harry's  head.  It  hit  him 
full  in  the  face  and  he  staggered  against  the  wall 
stunned  by  the  blow.  They  rushed  upon  the  boy  and 
disarmed  and  bore  him  to  the  floor.  For  a  little  time 
he  knew  not  what  was  passing.  When  he  came  to, 
his  hands  and  feet  were  tied  and  the  men  stood  near, 
cursing  and  laughing,  while  their  leader,  McNoll,  was 
draining  a  bottle.  Suddenly  he  heard  a  voice  trembling 
with  excitement  and  wet  with  tears  saying : 

"You  go  'way  from  here  or  I'll  kill  you  dead.  So 
help  me  God  I'll  kill  you.  If  one  o'  you  touches  him 
he's  goin'  to  die." 

He  saw  Bim  Kelso  at  the  window  with  her  gun 
leveled  at  the  head  of  McNoll.  Her  face  was  red  with 
anger.  Her  eyes  glowed.  As  he  looked  a  tear  welled 
from  one  of  them  and  trailed  down  the  scarlet  surface 
of  her  cheek.  McNoll  turned  without  a  word  and 
walked  sulkily  out  of  the  back  door.  The  others 
crowded  after  him.  They  ran  as  soon  as  they  had  got 
out  of  the  door.  She  left  the  window.  In  a  moment 
the  young  men  were  galloping  away. 

Bim  came  into  the  house  sobbing  with  emotion  but 
with  her  head  erect.  She  stood  her  gun  in  a  corner 
and  knelt  by  the  helpless  boy.  He  was  crying  also. 
Her  hair  fell  upon  his  face  as  she  looked  at  the  spot  of 
deep  scarlet  color  made  by  the  shot  bag.  She  kissed 
it  and  held  her  cheek  against  his  and  whispered :  "Don't 
cry.  It's  all  over  now.  I'm  going  to  cut  these  ropes." 


90  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

It  was  as  if  she  had  known  and  loved  him  always. 
She  was  like  a  young  mother  with  her  first  child.  Ten- 
derly she  wiped  his  tears  away  with  her  blond,  silken 
hair.  She  cut  his  bonds  and  he  rose  and  stood  before 
her.  Her  face  changed  like  magic. 

"Oh  what  a  fool  I've  been!"  she  exclaimed. 

"Why  so?"  he  asked. 

"I  cried  and  I  kissed  you  and  we  never  have  been 
introduced  to  each  other." 

She  covered  her  eyes  with  her  hair  and  with  bent 
head  went  out  of  the  door. 

"I'll  never  forget  that  kiss  as  long  as  I  live,"  said 
the  boy  as  he  followed  her.  "I'll  never  forget  your 
help  or  your  crying  either." 

"How  I  must  have  looked!"  she  went  on,  walking 
toward  her  pony  that  was  hitched  to  a  near  tree. 

"You  were  beautiful !"  he  exclaimed. 

"Go  away  from  me — I  won't  speak  to  you,"  she 
said.  "Go  back  to  your  work.  I'll  stay  here  and  keep 
watch." 

The  boy  returned  to  his  task  pointing  up  the  in- 
side walls  but  his  mind  and  heart  were  out  in  the 
sunlight  talking  with  Bim.  Once  he  looked  out  of  the 
door  and  saw  her  leaning  against  the  neck  of  the  pony, 
her  face  hidden  in  his  mane.  When  the  sun  was  low 
she  came  to  the  door  and  said: 

"You  had  better  stop  now  and  go  home." 

She  looked  down  at  the  ground  and  added : 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  91 

"Please,  please,  don't  tell  on  me." 

"Of  course  not,"  he  answered.  "But  I  hope  you 
won't  be  afraid  of  me  any  more." 

She  looked  up  at  him  with  a  little  smile.  "Do  you 
think  I'm  afraid  of  you?"  she  asked  as  if  it  were  too 
absurd  to  be  thought  of.  She  unhitched  and  mount- 
ed her  pony  but  did  not  go. 

"I  do  wish  you  could  raise  a  mustache,"  she  said,, 
looking  wistfully  into  his  face. 

Involuntarily  his  hand  went  to  his  lip. 

"I  could  try,"  he  said. 

"I  can't  bear  to  see  you  look  so  terribly  young;  you 
get  worse  and  worse  every  time  I  see  you,"  she  scold- 
ed plaintively.  "I  want  you  to  be  a  regular  man  right 
quick." 

He  wondered  what  he  ought  to  say  and  presently 
stammered:  "I — I — intend  to.  I  guess  I'm  more  of 
a  man  than  anybody  would  think  to  look  at  me." 

"You're  too  young  to  ever  fall  in  love  I  reckon." 

"No  I'm  not,"  he  answered  with  decision. 

"Have  you  got  a  razor  ?"  she  asked. 

"No." 

"I  reckon  it  would  be  a  powerful  help.  You  put 
soap  on  your  lip  and  mow  it  off  with  a  razor.  My 
father  says  it  makes  the  grass  grow." 

There  was  a  moment  of  silence  during  which  she 
brushed  the  mane  of  her  pony.  Then  she  asked  tim- 
idly: "Do  you  play  on  the  flute?" 


92  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

"No,  why?" 

"I  think  it  would  break  my  heart.  My  Uncle  Henry 
plays  all  day  and  it  makes  him  look  crazy.  Do  you 
like  yellow  hair?" 

"Yes,  if  it  looks  like  yours." 

"If  you  don't  mind  I'll  put  a  mustache  on  you  just 
— just  to  look  at  every  time  I  think  of  you." 

"When  I  think  of  you  I  put  violets  in  your  hair," 
he  said. 

He  took  a  step  toward  her  as  he  spoke  and  as  he 
did  so  she  started  her  pony.  A  little  way  off  she 
checked  him  and  said : 

"I'm  sorry.    There  are  no  violets  now." 

She  rode  away  slowly  waving  her  hand  and  singing 
with  the  joy  of  a  bird  in  the  springtime : 

"My  sweetheart,  come  along 
Don't  you  hear  the  glad  song 
As  the  notes  of  the  nightingale  flow? 
Don't  you  hear  the  fond  tale 
Of  the  sweet  nightingale 
As  she  sings  in  the  valleys  below — 
As  she  sings  in  the  valleys  below?" 

He  stood  looking  and  listening.  The  song  came  to 
him  as  clear  and  sweet  as  the  notes  of  a  vesper  bell 
•wandering  in  miles  of  silence. 

When  it  had  ceased  he  felt  his  lip  and  said ;    "How 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  93 

slow  the  time  passes !    I'm  going  to  get  some  shaving 
soap  and  a  razor." 

That  evening  when  Harry  was  helping  Samson 
with  the  horses  he  said : 

"I'm  going  to  tell  you  a  secret.  I  wish  you  wouldn't 
say  anything  about  it." 

Samson  stood  pulling  the  hair  out  of  his  card  and 
looking  very  stern  as  he  listened  while  Harry  told 
of  the  assault  upon  him  and  how  Bim  had  arrived  and 
driven  the  rowdies  away  with  her  gun  but  he  said  not 
a  word  of  her  demonstration  of  tender  sympathy.  To 
him  that  had  clothed  the  whole  adventure  with  a  kind 
of  sanctity  so  that  he  could  not  bear  to  have  it  talked 
about. 

Samson's  eyes  glowed  with  anger.  They  searched 
the  face  of  the  boy.  His  voice  was  deep  and  solemn 
when  he  said : 

"This  is  a  serious  matter.  Why  do  you  wish  to 
keep  it  a  secret  ?" 

The  boy  blushed.  For  a  moment  he  knew  not  what 
to  say.  Then  he  spoke:  "It  ain't  me  so  much — it's 
her,"  he  managed  to  say.  "She  wouldn't  want  it  to  be 
talked  about  and  I  don't  either." 

Samson  began  to  understand.  "She's  quite  a  girl 
I  guess,"  he  said  thoughtfully.  "She  must  have  the 
nerve  of  a  man — I  declare  she  must." 

"Yes-sir-ee !  They'd  'a'  got  hurt  if  they  hadn't  gone 
away, 'that's  sure,"  said  Harry. 


94  rA  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

"We'll  look  out  for  them  after  this,"  Samson  re- 
joined. "The  first  time  I  meet  that  man  McNoll  he'll 
have  to  settle  with  me  and  he'll  pay  cash  on  the 
nail." 

Bim  having  heard  of  Harry's  part  in  Abe's  fight 
and  of  the  fact  that  he  was  to  be  working  alone  all 
day  at  the  new  house  had  ridden  out  through  the 
woods  to  the  open  prairie  and  hunted  in  sight  of  the 
new  cabin  that  afternoon.  Unwilling  to  confess  her 
extreme  interest  in  the  boy  she  had  said  not  a  word 
of  her  brave  act.  It  was  not  shame;  it  was  partly  a 
kind  of  rebellion  against  the  tyranny  of  youthful  ar- 
dor; it  was  partly  the  fear  of  ridicule. 

So  it  happened  that  the  adventure  of  Harry  Needles 
made  scarcely  a  ripple  on  the  sensitive  surface  of  the 
village  life.  It  will  be  seen,  however,  that  i't  had 
started  strong  undercurrents  likely,  in  time,  to  make 
themselves  felt. 

The  house  and  barn  were  finished  whereupon  Sam- 
son and  Harry  drove  to  Springfield — a  muddy,  crude 
and  growing  village  with  thick  woods  on  its  north  side 
— and  bought  furniture.  Their  wagon  was  loaded  and 
they  were  ready  to  start  for  home.  They  were  walking 
on  the  main  street  when  Harry  touched  Samson's  arm 
and  whispered: 

"There's  McNoll  and  Callyhan." 

The  pair  were  walking  a  few  steps  ahead  of  Sam- 
son and  Harry.  In  a  second  Samson's  big  hand  was 
on  McNoll's  shoulder. 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  95 

"This  is  Mr.  McNoll,  I  believe,"  said  Samson. 

The  other  turned  with  a  scared  look. 

"What  do  ye  want  o'  me  ?"  he  demanded. 

Samson  threw  him  to  the  ground  with  a  jerk  so 
strong  and  violent  that  it  rent  the  sleeve  from  his 
shoulder.  McNeil's  companion  who  had  felt  the 
weight  of  Samson's  hand  and  had  had  enough  of  it 
turned  and  ran. 

"What  do  ye  want  o'  me?"  McNoll  asked  again  as 
he  struggled  to  free  himself. 

"What  do  I  want  o'  you — you  puny  little  coward," 
said  Samson,  as  he  lifted  the  bully  to  his  feet  and  gave 
him  a  toss  and  swung  him  in  the  air  and  continued  to 
address  him.  "I'm  just  goin'  to  muss  you  up  proper. 
If  you  don't  say  you're  sorry  and  mean  it  I'll  put  a  tow 
string  on  your  neck  and  give  you  to  some  one  that 
wants  a  dog." 

"I'm  sorry,"  said  McNoll.  "Honest  I  am!  I  was 
drunk  when  I  done  it." 

Samson  released  his  prisoner.  A  number  in  the 
crowd  which  had  gathered  around  them  clapped  their 
hands  and  shouted,  "Hurrah  for  the  stranger !" 

A  constable  took  Samson's  hand  and  said:  "You 
deserve  a  vote  of  thanks.  That  man  and  his  friends 
have  made  me  more  trouble  than  all  the  rest  of  the 
drinking  men  put  together." 

"And  I  am  making  trouble  for  myself,"  said  Sam- 
son. "I  have  made  myself  ashamed.  I  am  no  fighting 
man,  I  was  never  in  such  a  muss  on  a  public  street 


96  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

before   and   with   God's   help   it   will    never   happen 
again." 

"Where  do  you  live?"  the  officer  asked. 

"In  New  Salem." 

"I  wish  it  was  here.  We  need  men  like  you.  What 
part  of  the  East  do  you  hail  from?" 

"Vermont,"  Samson  answered.  "I've  just  bought 
land  and  built  a  cabin  a  little  west  of  the  village.  Came 
here  for  a  load  of  furniture." 

"I'm  a  Maine  man  and  a  Whig  and  opposed  to  slav- 
ery and  my  name  is  Erastus  Wright,"  said  the  con- 
stable. 

"I  am  a  Whig  and  against  slavery,"  Samson  vol- 
unteered. 

"I  could  tell  that  by  the  look  of  you,"  said  the  con- 
stable. "Some  day  we  must  sit  down  together  and 
talk  things  over." 

Samson  wrote  in  his  diary: 

"On  the  way  home  my  heart  was  sore.  I  prayed 
in  silence  that  God  would  forgive  me  for  my  bad  ex- 
ample to  the  boy.  I  promised  that  I  would  not  again 
misuse  the  strength  He  has  given  me.  In  my  old 
home  I  would  have  been  disgraced  by  it.  The  min- 
ister would  have  preached  of  the  destruction  that  fol- 
lows the  violent  man  to  put  him  down;  the  people 
would  have  looked  askance  at  me.  Deacon  Somers 
would  have  called  me  aside  to  look  into  my  soul,  and 
Judge  Grandy  and  his  wife  would  not  have  invited 
me  to  their  parties.  Here  it's  different.  A  chap  who 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  97 

can  take  the  law  in  his  hands  and  bring  the  evil  man 
to  his  senses,  even  if  he  has  to  hit  him  over  the  head, 
is  looked  up  to.  That  day  a  number  of  men  and  boys 
increased  my  shame  by  following  us  to  the  wagon  and 
wanting  to  shake  hands  and  feel  of  my  muscles  and 
paining  my  soul  with  praise.  It's  a  reckless  country. 
You  feel  it  as  soon  as  you  get  here.  In  time,  I  fear, 
I  shall  be  as  headlong  as  the  rest  of  them.  Some  way 
the  news  of  my  act  has  got  here  from  Springfield. 
Sarah  was  kind  of  cut  up.  Jack  Kelso  has  nicknamed 
me  'The  man  with  the  iron  arms,'  and  Abe,  who  is  a 
better  man  every  way,  laughs  at  my  embarrassment 
and  says  I  ought  to  feel  honored.  For  one  thing  Jack 
Armstrong  has  become  a  good  citizen.  His  wife  has 
foxed  a  pair  of  breeches  for  Abe.  They  say  McNoll 
has  left  the  country.  There  has  been  no  deviltry  here 
since  that  day.  I  guess  the  gang  is  broken  up — too 
much  iron  in  its  way." 

Sarah  enjoyed  fixing  up  the  cabin.  Jack  Kelso  had 
given  her  some  deer  and  buffalo  skins  to  lay  on  the 
floors.  The  upper  room,  reached  by  a  stick  ladder, 
had  its  two  beds,  one  of  which  Harry  occupied.  The 
children  slept  below  in  a  trundle  bed  that  was  pushed 
under  the  larger  one  when  it  was  made  up  in  the 
morning. 

"Some  time  I'm  going  to  put  in  a  windletrap  and 
get  rid  o'  that  stick  ladder,"  Samson  had  said. 

Sarah  had  all  the  arts  of  the  New  England  home 
maker.  Under  her  hand  the  cabin,  in  color,  atmos- 
phere and  general  neatness,  would  have  delighted  a 


98  M  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

higher  taste  than  was  to  be  found  on  the  prairies,  save 
in  the  brain  of  Kelso  who  really  had  some  acquaintance 
with  beauty.  To  be  sure  the  bed  was  in  one  corner, 
spread  with  its  upper  cover  knit  of  gray  yarn  harmon- 
izing in  color  with  the  bark  of  the  log  walls.  A  hand- 
some dark  brown  buffalo  robe  lay  beside  it.  The  rifle 
and  powder  horn  were  hung  above  the  mantel.  The 
fireplace  had  its  crane  of  wrought  iron. 

Every  one  in  the  little  village  came  to  the  house 
warming. 

"There  is  nothing  in  America  so  beautiful  as  'this 
here  kind  o'  thing'  when  the  firelight  shines  upon  it," 
said  Kelso  who  often  indulged  in  the  vernacular  of 
the  real  ladder  climbers. 

"Well,  of  course,  it  isn't  like  Boston  or  New  York," 
Sarah  answered. 

"Thank  God !"  Kelso  exclaimed.  "New  York  hurts 
my  feelings,  so  many  of  its  buildings  are  of  grand  de- 
sign and  small  proportions.  Mrs.  Traylor,  you  are 
lucky  to  have  this  beautiful  island  in  an  ocean  of 
music.  There  is  music  in  the  look  and  sound  of  these 
meadows — bird  music,  wind  music,  the  level  music 
of  Felician  David's  Desert.  Perhaps  you  don't  know 
about  that  and  really  it  doesn't  matter.  Traylor,  tune 
up  your  fiddle." 

Samson  began  to  play,  stopping  often  to  give  the 
hand  of  welcome  to  a  guest.  The  people  of  New 
Salem,  were  in  their  best  clothes.  The  women  wore 


dresses  of  new  calico — save  Mrs.  Dr.  Allen,  who  wore 
a  black  silk  dress  which  had  come  with  her  from  her 
late  home  in  Lexington.  Bim  Kelso  came  in  a  dress 
of  red  muslin  trimmed  with  white  lace.  Ann  Rutledge 
also  wore  a  red  dress  and  came  with  Abe.  The  latter 
was  rather  grotesque  in  his  new  linsey  trousers,  of  a 
better  length  than  the  former  pair,  but  still  too  short. 

"It  isn't  fair  to  blame  the  trousers  or  the  tailor,"  he 
had  said  when  he  had  tried  them  on.  "My  legs  are 
so  long  that  the  imagination  of  the  tailor  is  sure  to 
fall  short  if  the  cloth  don't.  Next  time  I'll  have  'em 
made  to  measure  with  a  ten- foot  pole  instead  of  a 
yardstick.  If  they're  too  long  I  can  roll  'em  up  and 
let  out  a  link  or  two  when  they  shrink.  Ever  since  I 
was  a  boy  I  have  been  troubled  with  shrinking  pants." 

Abe  wore  a  blue  swallow-tail  coat  with  brass  but- 
tons, the  tails  of  which  were  so  short  as  to  be  well 
above  the  danger  of  pressure  when  he  sat  down.  His 
cowhide  shoes  had  been  well  blackened ;  the  blue  yarn 
of  his  socks  showed  above  them.  "These  darned  socks 
of  mine  are  rather  proud  and  conceited,"  he  used  to 
'say.  "They  like  to  show  off." 

He  wore  a  shirt  of  white,  unbleached  cotton,  a 
starched  collar  and  black  tie. 

In  speaking  of  his  collar  to  Samson,  he  said  that 
he  felt  like  a  wild  horse  in  a  box  stall. 

Menton  Graham,  the  schoolmaster,  was  there — a 
smooth-faced  man  with  a  large  head,  sandy  hair  and 


ioo  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

a  small  mustache,  who  spoke  by  note,  as  it  were. 
Kelso  called  him  the  great  articulator  and  said  that 
he  walked  in  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  Lindley  Mur- 
ray. He  seemed  to  keep  a  watchful  eye  on  his  words, 
as  if  they  were  a  lot  of  schoolboys  not  to  be  trusted. 
They  came  out  with  a  kind  of  self-conscious  rectitude. 
The  children's  games  had  begun  and  the  little  house 
rang  with  their  songs  and  laughter,  while  their  elders 
sat  by  the  fire  and  along  the  walls  talking.  Ann  Rut- 
ledge  and  Bim  Kelso  and  Harry  Needles  and  John 
McNeil  played  with  them.  In  one  of  the  dances  all 
joined  in  singing  the  verses : 

I  won't  have  none  o'  yer  weavily  wheat, 
I  won't  have  none  o'  yer  barley; 

I  won't  have  none  o'  yer  weavily  wheat, 
To  make  a  cake  for  Charley. 

Charley  is  a  fine  young  man, 

Charley  is  a  dandy, 
Charley  likes  to  kiss  the  girls, 

Whenever  it  comes  handy. 

When  a  victim  was  caught  in  the  flying  scrimmage 
at  the  end  of  a  passage  in  the  game  of  Prisoners,  he 
or  she  was  brought  before  a  blindfolded  judge : 

"Heavy,  heavy  hangs  over  your  head,"  said  the  Con- 
stable. 

"Fine  or  superfine?"  the  judge  inquired. 

"Fine,"  said  the  Constable,  which  meant  that  the 
victim  was  a  boy.  Then  the  sentence  was  pronounced 
and  generally  it  was  this : 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  101 

"Go  bow  to  the  wittiest,  kneel  to  the  prettiest  and 
kiss  the  one  that  you  love  best." 

Harry  was  the  first  prisoner.  He  went  straight  to 
Bim  Kelso  and  bowed  and  knelt,  and  when  he  had 
risen  she  turned  and  ran  like  a  scared  deer  around  the 
chairs  and  the  crowd  of  onlookers,  some  assisting  and 
some  checking  her  flight,  before  the  nimble  youth. 
Hard  pressed,  she  ran  out  of  the  open  door,  with  a 
merry  laugh,  and  just  beyond  the  steps  Harry  caught 
and  kissed  her,  and  her  cheeks  had  the  color  of  roses 
when  he  led  her  back. 

John  McNeil  kissed  Ann  Rutledge  that  evening  and 
was  most  attentive  to  her,  and  the  women  were  say- 
ing that  the  two  had  fallen  in  love  with  each  other. 
"See  how  she  looks  at  him,"  one  of  them  whispered. 
"Well,  it's  just  the  way  he  looks  at  her,"  the  other 
answered. 

At  the  first  pause  in  the  merriment  Kelso  stood 
on  a  chair,  and  then  silence  fell  upon  the  little  com- 
pany. 

"My  good  neighbors,"  he  began,  "we  are  here  to 
rejoice  that  new  friends  have  come  to  us  and  that  a 
new  home  is  born  in  our  midst.  We  bid  them  welcome. 
They  are  big  boned,  big  hearted  folks.  No  man  has 
grown  large  who  has  not  at  one  time  or  another  had 
his  feet  in  the  soil  and  felt  its  magic  power  going  up 
into  his  blood  and  bone  and  sinew.  Here  is  a  won- 
derful soil  and  the  inspiration  of  wide  horizons;  here 
are  broad  and  fertile  fields.  Where  the  corn  grows 


102  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

high  you  can  grow  statesmen.  It  may  be  that  out  of 
one  of  these  little  cabins  a  man  will  come  to  carry 
the  torch  of  Liberty  and  Justice  so  high  that  its  light 
will  shine  into  every  dark  place.  So  let  no  one  despise 
the  cabin — humble  as  it  is.  Samson  and  Sarah  Tray- 
lor,  I  welcome  and  congratulate  you.  Whatever  may 
come,  you  can  find  no  better  friends  than  these,  and 
of  this  you  may  be  sure,  no  child  of  the  prairies  will 
ever  go  about  with  a  hand  organ  and  a  monkey.  Our 
friend,  Honest  Abe,  is  one  of  the  few  rich  men  in  this 
neighborhood.  Among  his  assets  are  Kirkham's 
Grammar,  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  the  Lives  of  Wash- 
ington and  Henry  Clay,  Hamlet's  Soliloquy,  Othello's 
Speech  to  the  Senate,  Marc  Antony's  address  and  a 
part  of  Webster's  reply  to  Hayne.  A  man  came  along 
the  other  day  and  sold  him  a  barrel  of  rubbish  for 
two  bits.  In  it  he  found  a  volume  of  Blackstone's 
Commentaries.  Old  Blackstone  challenged  him  to  a 
wrestle  and  Abe  has  grappled  with  him.  I  reckon 
he'll  take  his  measure  as  easily  as  he  took  Jack  Arm- 
strong's. Lately  he  has  got  possession  of  a  noble 
asset.  It  is  the  Cotter's  Saturday  Night,  by  Robert 
Burns.  I  propose  to  ask  him  to  let  us  share  his  en- 
joyment of  this  treasure." 

Abe,  who  had  been  sitting  with  his  legs  doubled 
beneath  him  on  a  buffalo  skin,  between  Joe  and  Betsey 
Traylor,  rose  and  said : 

"Mr.  Kelso's  remarks,  especially  the  part  which  ap- 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  103 

plied  to  me,  remind  me  of  the  story  of  the  prosperous 
grocer  of  Joliet  One  Saturday  night  he  and  his  boys 
were  busy  selling  sausage.  Suddenly  in  came  a  man 
with  whom  he  had  quarreled  and  laid  two  dead  cats 
on  the  counter. 

"  There,'  said  he,  'this  makes  seven  to-day.  I'll  call 
Monday  and  get  my  money.' 

"We  were  doing  a  good  business  here  making  fun. 
It  seems  a  pity  to  ruin  it  and  throw  suspicion  on  the 
quality  of  the  goods  by  throwing  a  cat  on  the  counter. 
I'll  only  throw  one  cat.  It  is  entitled : 

MY  SISTER  SUE 

"Say,  boys,  I  guess  'at  none  o'  you 
Has  ever  seen  my  sister  Sue, 
She  kin  rassle  an'  turn  han'springs  kerflop, 
But  Jiminy  Crimps ! — ye  should  see  her  hop ! 
Yes,  sir! 

"She  kin  h'ist  one  foot  an'  go  like  Ned! 
An'  hop  on  top  o'  my  mother's  bed, 
An'  back  an'  round  the  house  she'll  go, 
'Ith  her  ol'  knee  as  limber  as  a  hickory  bow, 
Yes,  sir! 

"She  kin  sing  a  hull  song  'ithout  ketchin'  her  breath, 
An'  make  up  a  face  'at  'ud  scare  ye  to  death ! 
She  kin  wiggle  her  ears  an'  cross  her  eyes 
An'  stick  out  her  tongue  till  yer  hair  'ud  rise. 
Yes,  sir! 


104  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

"An'  play  wildcat  on  her  han's  an'  knees, 
Honest!    'T  would  give  ye  the  gibberees! 
An'  she  sneaks  along  an'  jumps  at  you 
An'  gives  sech  a  yell! — ray  sister  Sue! 
Yes,  sir! 

"She  ki'n  shoot  off  a  gun  an'  set  a  trap, 
An'  if  you  don't  behave  she  kin 'give  you  a  slap! 
She  kin  holler  and  scream  like  a  flock  o'  geese 
An*  stan'  on  her  head  an'  speak  a  piece. 
Yes,  sir! 

"She  kin  run  cross  legged  an'  ride  a  cow, 
An'  jump  from  the  beam  to  the  big  hay  mow. 
I  reckon  yer  hair  'ud  stan'  up  to  see  'er 
A  breakin'  a  colt  er  throwin'  a  steer, 
Yes,  sir! 

"My  sister  Susan  has  got  a  beau. 
When  he  comes  she  sets  an'  acts  jes'  so, 
An'  talks  so  proper — it's  zac'ly  jes 
Like  the  flummididles  on  her  dress, 
Yes,  sir! 

"When  she  stan's  in  that  darn  ol'  Sunday  gown 
Ye'd  think  a  grasshopper  could  knock  'er  down. 
An'  she  laughs  kind  o'  sick — like  a  kitten's  mew— * 
Ye  wouldn't  think  'twas  my  sister  Sue, 
No,  sir! 

"An'  she  says:   'Oh,  dear!  those  horrid  boys! 
They  act  so  rough  an'  make  sech  a  noise!' 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  105 

Good  gracious !  ye  wouldn't  think  'at  she 
Could  talk  as  loud  as  a  bumble  bee — - 
No,  sir! 

"Honest !    Er  lift  a  chip  o'  wood, 

She  acts  so  puny  an'  nice  an'  good ! 
'Boys  are  awful!'  she  says,  'till  they're  grown, 

Er  nelse  they  got  to  be  yer  own!' 
Oh,  gosh!" 

This  raised  a  storm  of  merriment,  after  which  he 
recited  the  poem  of  Burns,  with  keen  appreciation  of 
its  quality.  Samson  repeatedly  writes  of  his  gift  for 
interpretation,  especially  of  the  comic,  and  now  and 
then  lays  particular  stress  on  his  power  of  mimicry. 

John  Cameron  sang  The  Sword  of  Bunker  Hill 
and  Forty  Years  Ago,  Tom.  Samson  played  while 
the  older  people  danced  until  midnight.  Then,  after 
noisy  farewells,  men,  women  and  children  started  in 
the  moonlit  road  toward  the  village.  Ann  Rutledge 
had  Abe  on  one  arm  and  John  McNeil  on  the  other. 


CHAPTER  VI 

WHICH    DESCRIBES    THE    LONELY    LIFE    IN    A    PRAIRIE 
CABIN  AND  A  STIRRING  ADVENTURE  ON  THE  UNDER- 
GROUND    RAILROAD    ABOUT    THE    TIME    IT    BEGAN 
•     OPERATIONS. 

WHEN  Samson  paid  Mr.  Gollaher,  a  "detector"  came 
with  the  latter  to  look  at  the  money  before  it  was 
accepted.  There  were  many  counterfeits  and  bills 
good  only  at  a  certain  discount  of  face  value,  going 
about  those  days  and  the  detector  was  in  great  request. 
Directly  after  moving  in,  Samson  dug  a  well  and  lined 
it  with  a  hollow  log.  He  bought  tools  and  another 
team  and  then  he  and  Harry  began  their  fall  plowing. 
Day  after  day  for  weeks  they  paced  with  their  turn- 
ing furrows  until  a  hundred  acres,  stretching  half  a 
mile  to  the  west  and  well  to  the  north  of  the  house, 
were  black  with  them.  Fever  and  ague  descended 
upon  the  little  home  in  the  early  winter. 

In  a  letter  to  her  brother,  dated  January  4th,  1832, 
Sarah  writes : 

"We  have  been  longing  for  news  from  home,  but 
not  a  word  has  come  from  you.  It  don't  seem  as  if 
we  could  stand  it  unless  we  hear  from  you  or  some 
of  the  folks  once  in  a  while.  We  are  not  dead  just 
because  we  are  a  thousand  miles  away.  We  want  to 

106 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  107 

hear  from  you.  Please  write  and  let  us  know  how 
father  and  mother  are  and  all  the  news.  Is  Elizabeth 
Ranney  married  yet,  and  how  does  the  minister  get 
along  with  his  new  wife?  We  have  all  been  sick  with 
the  fever  and  ague.  It  is  a  beautiful  country  and  the 
soil  very  rich,  but  there  is  some  sickness.  Samson  and 
I  were  both  sick  at  the  same  time.  I  never  knew 
Samson  to  give  up  before.  He  couldn't  go  on,  his 
head  ached  so.  Little  Joe  helped  me  get  the  fire 
started  and  brought  some  water  and  waited  on  us. 
Then  the  little  man  put  on  his  coat  and  mittens  and 
trudged  away  to  the  village  with  Betsey  after  the  doc- 
tor. Harry  Needles  had  gone  away  to  Springfield  for 
Mr.  Offut  with  a  drove  of  hogs.  Two  other  boys  are 
with  him.  He  is  going  to  buy  a  new  suit.  He  is  a 
very  proud  boy.  Joe  and  Betsey  got  back  with  the 
doctor  at  nine.  That  night  Abe  Lincoln  came  and  sat 
up  with  us  and  gave  us  our  medicine  and  kept  the 
fire  going.  It  was  comical  to  see  him  lying  beside 
Joe  in  his  trundle  bed,  with  his  long  legs  sticking  over 
the  end  of  it  and  his  feet  standing  on  the  floor  about 
a  yard  from  the  bed.  He  was  spread  all  over  the 
place.  He  talked  about  religion,  and  his  views  would 
shock  most  of  our  friends  in  the  East.  He  doesn't 
believe  in  the  kind  of  Heaven  that  the  ministers  talk 
about  or  any  eternal  hell.  He  says  that  nobody  knows 
anything  about  the  hereafter,  except  that  God  is  a 
kind  and  forgiving  father  and  that  all  men  are  His 
children.  He  says  that  we  can  only  serve  God  by 
serving  each  other.  He  seems  to  think  that  every 
man,  good  or  bad,  black  or  white,  rich  or  poor,  is  his 
brother.  He  thinks  that  Henry  Clay,  next  to  Daniel 
Webster,  is  the  greatest  man  in  the  country.  He  is 


io8  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

studying  hard.  Expects  to  go  out  and  make  speeches 
for  Clay  next  summer.  He  is  quite  severe  in  his  talk 
against  General  Jackson.  He  and  Samson  agree  in 
politics  and  religion.  They  are  a  good  deal  alike.  He 
is  very  fond  of  Samson  and  Harry — calls  them  his 
partners.  He  said  to  Samson  the  other  evening. 

"  'I  want  you  for  a  friend  always.  If  you  can  stand 
it,  I  would  like  my  story  to  be  a  part  of  yours.  If 
you  say  so,  we'll  stick  to  the  same  boat  and  pole  her 
over  the  shoals  and  carry  her  across  the  bends  and  see 
if  we  can  get  to  good  going  in  deep  water.  When  the 
channel  will  permit,  we  can  put  in  a  steam  engine.' 

"We  love  this  big  awkward  giant.  His  feet  are  set 
in  the  straight  way  and  we  think  that  he  is  going  to 
make  his  mark  in  the  world. 

"When  I  went  to  sleep  he  lay  in  the  trundle  bed, 
with  two  candles  burning  on  the  stand  beside  him, 
reading  that  big  green  book  of  mine  entitled  The 
Works  of  William  Shakespeare.  He  had  brought  a 
law  book  with  him,  but  he  got  interested  in  William 
Shakespeare  and  couldn't  let  it  alone.  He  said  that 
he  was  like  a  mired  horse  whenever  he  began  to  read 
a  play  of  the  immortal  bard,  and  that  he  had  to  take 
his  time  in  getting  out.  When  he  went  away  next 
morning  he  borrowed  Samson's  pack  basket.  I  felt 
bad  because  we  couldn't  go  and  make  any  arrange- 
ments with  Santa  Claus  for  the  children.  Joe  was 
dreadfully  worried,  for  Betsey  had  told  him  that  Santa 
Claus  never  came  to  children  whose  father  and  mother 
were  sick.  Christmas  Eve  Abe  came  with  the  pack 
basket  chock-full  of  good  things  after  the  children 
were  asleep.  He  took  out  a  turkey  and  knit  caps  and 
mittens  and  packages  of  candy  and  raisins  for  the  chil- 
dren and  some  cloth  for  a  new  dress  for  me.  Mrs. 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  109 

Kelso  had  come  to  spend  the  ni'ght  with  us,  although 
Samson  and  I  were  so  much  better  it  really  wasn't 
necessary.  I  made  her  go  up  the  ladder  to  bed  before 
midnight.  That  evening  a  short,  fat  Santa  Claus 
came  in  with  a  loaded  pack.  He  had  a  long,  brown 
beard  and  a  red  nose  and  carried  a  new  clay  pipe  in 
his  mouth  and  was  very  much  bundled  up. 

"We  called  the  children.  They  stood  looking  at 
Santa  Claus,  and  Santa  Claus  stood  looking  at  them. 
He  gave  them  mufflers  and  some  candy  hearts  and  tried 
to  pick  them  up.  They  ran  away  and  he  chased  them 
under  our  bed  and  got  hold  of  Joe's  foot  and  tried  to 
pull  him  out,  and  Joe  hollered  like  a  painter,  and  Santa 
Claus  dropped  his  pipe  and  sat  down  on  the  floor  and 
began  laughing.  I  saw  it  was  Bim  Kelso.  Abe  left 
with  her,  and  I  suppose  they  went  back  to  the  village 
and  around  in  a  regular  Santa  Claus  spree. 

"Mrs.  Kelso  said  that  she  had  been  making  a  beard 
of  pieces  of  buffalo  skin  and  fitting  up  an  old  suit  of 
her  father's  clothes  that  afternoon.  I  wonder  what 
she'll  do  next.  It's  terrible  to  be  so  much  in  love  and 
not  quite  seventeen.  Harry  is  as  bad  as  she  is.  I 
wish  they  had  been  a  little  older  before  they  met. 

"Joe  said  yesterday  that  he  was  going  back  to  Ver- 
gennes. 

"  'How  are  you  going  to  get  there  ?'  I  asked. 

"  'Abe's  going  to  make  me  a  pair  o'  wings,  and  I'm 
going  to  smash  right  up  through  the  sky  and  go 
awa-a-y  oft"  to  Vergennes  and  play  with  Ben  and  Lizzie 
Tyler.  Abe  says  there  ain't  no  bad  roads  up  there.' 

"I  asked  him  what  I  should  do  if  he  went  away  and 
left  me  like  that. 

"  'Oh,  I'll  come  right  back,'  he  said,  'and  maybe 
I'll  see  Heaven  way  up  in  the  clouds.  If  I  do  I'll  stop 


no  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

there  in  a  tavern  over  night  and  buy  something  for 
you.' 

"In  a  minute  a  new  idea  came  to  him  and  he  said : 
"  'I  guess  Abe  would  make  a  pair  of  wings  for  you 
if  you'd  ask  him.' 

"Often  I  wish  for  wings,  and  always  when  I  think 
of  those  who  are  dear  to  me  and  so  far  away.  You 
said  you  would  come  out  next  spring  to  look  about. 
Please  don't  disappoint  us.  I  think  it  would  almost 
break  my  heart  I  am  counting  the  days.  Some  time 
ago  I  put  down  142  straight  marks  on  my  old  slate, 
that  being  the  number  of  days  before  May  I.  Every 
night  I  rub  off  one  of  them  and  thank  God  that  you 
are  one  day  nearer.  Don't  be  afraid  of  fever  and  ague. 
Sapington's  pills  cure  it  in  three  or  four  days.  I  would 
take  the  steamboat  at  Pittsburg,  the  roads  in  Ohio  and 
Indiana  are  so  bad.  You  can  get  a  steamer  up  the 
Illinois  River  at  Alton  and  get  off  at  Beardstown  and 
drive  across  country.  If  we  knew  when  you  were 
coming  Samson  or  Abe  would  meet  you.  Give  our 
love  to  all  the  folks  and  friends. 

"Yours  affectionately, 

"Sarah  and  Samson." 

It  had  been  a  cold  winter  and  not  easy  to  keep 
comfortable  in  the  little  house.  In  the  worst  weather 
Samson  used  to  get  up  at  night  to  keep  the  fire  going. 
Late  in  January  a  wind  from  the  southeast  melted  the 
snow  and  warmed  the  air  of  the  midlands  so  that,  for 
a  week  or  so,  it  seemed  as  if  spring  were  come.  One 
night  of  this  week  Sambo  awoke  the  family  with  his 
barking.  A  strong  wind  was  rushing  across  the  plains 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  in 

and  roaring  over  the  cabin  and  wailing  in  its  chimney. 
Suddenly  there  was  a  rap  on  its  door.  When  Samson 
opened  it  he  saw  in  the  moonlight  a  young'  colored 
man  and  woman  standing  near  the  door-step. 

"Is  dis  Mistah  Traylor?"  the  young  man  asked. 

"It  is,"  said  Samson.    "What  can  I  do  for  you  ?" 

"Mas'r,  de  good  Lord  done  fotched  us  here  to  ask 
you  fo'  help,"  said  the  negro.  "We  be  nigh  wone  out 
with  cold  an'  hungah,  suh,  'deed  we  be." 

Samson  asked  them  in  and  put  wood  on  the  fire, 
and  Sarah  got  up  and  made  some  hot  tea  and  brought 
food  from  the  cupboard  and  gave  it  to  the  strangers, 
who  sat  shivering  in  the  firelight.  They  were  a  good- 
looking  pair,  the  young  woman  being  almost  white. 
They  were  man  and  wife.  The  latter  stopped  eating 
and  moaned  and  shook  with  emotion  as  her  husband 
told  their  story.  Their  master  had  died  the  year  be- 
fore and  they  had  been  brought  to  St.  Louis  to  be 
sold  in  the  slave  market.  There  they  had  escaped  by 
night  and  gone  to  the  house  of  an  old  friend  of  their 
former  owner  who  lived  north  of  the  city  on  the  river 
shore.  He  had  taken  pity  on  them  and  brought  them 
across  the  Mississippi  and  started  them  on  the  north 
road  with  a  letter  to  Elijah  Love  joy  of  Alton  and  a 
supply  of  food.  Since  then  they  had  been  hiding  days 
in  the  swamps  and  thickets  and  had  traveled  by 
night.  Mr.  Lovejoy  had  sent  them  to  Erastus  Wright 
of  Springfield,  and  Mr.  Wright  had  given  them  the 


T  12  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

name  of  Samson  Traylor  and  the  location  of  his  cabin. 
From  there  they  were  bound  for  the  house  of  John 
Peasley,  in  Hopedale,  Tazewell  County. 

Lovejoy  had  asked  them  to  keep  the  letter  with  which 
they  had  begun  their  travels.  Under  its  signature  he 
had  written:  "I  know  the  writer  and  know  that  the 
above  was  written  with  his  own  hand.  His  word  can  be 
relied  upon.  To  all  who  follow  or  respect  the  example 
of  Jesus  Christ  I  commend  this  man  and  woman." 

The  letter  stated  that  their  late  master  had  often 
expressed  his  purpose  of  leaving  them  their  freedom 
when  he  should  pass  away.  He  had  left  no  will  and 
since  his  death  the  two  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of 
his  nephew,  a  despotic,  violent  young  drunkard  of  the 
name  of  Biggs,  who  had  ruled  his  servants  with  club 
and  bull  whip  and  who  in  a  temper  had  killed  a  young 
negro  a  few  months  before.  The  fugitives  said  that 
they  would  rather  die  than  go  back  to  him. 

Samson  was  so  moved  by  their  story  that  he  hitched 
tip  his  horses  and  put  some  hay  in  the  wagon  box  and 
made  off  with  the  fugitives  up  the  road  to  the  north 
in  the  night.  When  daylight  came  he  covered  them 
with  the  hay.  About  eight  o'clock  he  came  to  a  frame 
'house  and  barn,  the  latter  being  of  unusual  size  for 
that  time  and  country.  Above  the  door  of  the  barn 
was  a  board  which  bore  the  stenciled  legend:  "John 
Peasley,  Orwell  Farm." 

As  Samson  drew  near  the  house  he  observed  a  man 
working  on  the  roof  of  a  woodshed.  Something 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  113 

familiar  in  his  look  held  the  eye  of  the  New  Salem 
man.  In  half  a  moment  he  recognized  the  face  of 
Henry  Brimstead.  It  was  now  a  cheerful  face.  Brim- 
stead  came  down  the  ladder  and  they  shook  hands. 

"Good  land  q'  Goshen!  How  did  you  get  here?" 
Samson  asked.  Brimstead  answered : 

"Through  the  help  of  a  feller  that  looks  like  you 
an'  the  grit  of  a  pair  o'  hosses.  Come  down  this  road 
early  in  September  on  my  way  to  the  land  o'  plenty. 
Found  Peasley  here.  Couldn't  help  it.  Saw  his  name 
on  the  barn.  Used  to  go  to  school  with  him  in  Orwell. 
He  offered  to  sell  me  some  land  with  a  house  on  it  an' 
trust  me  for  his  pay.  I  liked  the  looks  o'  the  country 
and  so  I  didn't  go  no  further.  I  was  goin'  to  write 
you  a  letter,  but  I  hain't  got  around  to  it  yet.  Ain't 
forgot  what  you  done  for  us,  I  can  tell  ye  that." 

"Well,  this  looks  better  than  the  sand  plains — a  lot 
better — and  you  look  better  than  that  flea  farmer  back 
in  York  State.  How  are  the  children?" 

"Fat  an'  happy  an'  well  dressed.  Mrs.  Peasley  has 
been  a  mother  to  'em  an'  her  sister  is  goin'  to  be  a 
wife  to  me."  He  came  close  to  Samson  and  added 
in  a  confidential  tone :  "Say,  if  I  was  any  happier  I'd 
be  scairt.  I'm  like  I  was  when  I  got  over  the  tooth- 
ache— so  scairt  for  fear  it  would  come  back  I  was 
kind  o'  miserable." 

Mr.  Peasley  came  out  of  the  door.  He  was  a  big, 
full  bearded,  jovial  man. 

"I've  got  a  small  load  o'  hay  for  you,"  said  Samson. 


ii4  A1  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

"I  was  expecting  it,  though  I  supposed  *twould  be 
walkin' — in  the  dark  o'  the  night,"  Peasley  answered. 
"Drive  in  on  the  barn  floor." 

When  Samson  had  driven  into,  the  bars  its  doors 
were  closed  and  the  negroes  were  called  from  their 
place  of  hiding.  Samson  writes: 

"I  never  realized  what  a  blessing  it  is  to  be  free 
until  I  saw  that  scared  man  and  woman  crawling  out 
from  under  the  dusty  hay  and  shaking  themselves  like 
a  pair  of  dogs.  The  weather  was  not  cold  or  I  guess 
they  would  have  been  frozen.  They  knelt  together 
on  the  barn  floor  and  the  woman  prayed  for  God's  pro- 
tection through  the  day.  I  knew  what  slavery  must 
mean  when  I  saw  what  they  were  suffering  to  get 
away  from  it.  When  they  came  in  the  night  I  felt 
the  call  of  God  to  help  them.  Now  I  knew  that  I  was 
among  the  chosen  to  lead  in  a  great  struggle.  Peasley 
brought  food  for  them  and  stowed  them  away  on  the 
top  of  his  hay  mow  with  a  pair  of  buffalo  skins.  I 
suppose  they  got  some  sleep  there.  I  went  into  the 
house  to  breakfast  and  while  I  ate  Brimstead  told  me 
about  his  trip.  His  children  were  there.  They  looked 
clean  and  decent.  He  lived  in  a  log  cabin  a  little 
further  up  the  road.  Mrs.  Peasley's  sister  waited  on 
me.  She  is  a  fat  and  cheerful  looking  lady,  very  light 
complected.  Her  hair  is  red — like  tomato  ketchup. 
Looks  to  me  a  likely,  stout  armed,  good  hearted 
woman  who  can  do  a  lot  of  hard  work.  She  can  see 
a  joke  and  has  an  answer  handy  every  time '.' 

For  details  of  the  remainder  of  the  historic  visit 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  115 

of  Samson  Tray  lor  to  the  home  of  John  Peasley  we 
are  indebted  to  a  letter  from  John  to  his  brother 
Charles,  dated  February  21,  1832.  In  this  he  says: 

"We  had  gone  out  to  the  barn  and  Brimstead  and  I 
were  helping  Mr.  Traylor  hitch  up  his  horses.  All  of 
a  sudden  two  men  came  riding  up  the  road  at  a  fast 
trot  and  turned  in  and  come  straight  toward  us  and 
pulled  up  by  the  wagon.  One  of  them  was  a  slim,  red 
cheeked  young  feller  about  twenty-three  years  old. 
He  wore  top  boots  and  spurs  and  a  broad  brimmed 
black  hat  and  gloves  and  a  fur  waistcoat  and  purty 
linen.  He  looked  at  the  tires  of  the  wagon  and  said : 
'That's  the  one  we've  followed.' 

"  'Which  o'  you  is  Samson  Traylor?'  he  asked. 

"  'I  am,'  said  Traylor. 

"The  young  feller  jumped  off  his  horse  and  tied  him 
to  the  fence.  Then  he  went  up  to  Traylor  and  said : 

"  'What  did  you  do  with  my  niggers,  you  dirty 
sucker?' 

"Men  from  Missouri  hated  the  Illinois  folks  them 
days  and  called  'em  Suckers.  We  always  call  a  Mis- 
souri man  a  name  too  dirty  to  be  put  in  a  letter.  He 
acted  like  one  o'  the  Roman  emperors  ye  read  of. 

"  'Hain't  you  a  little  reckless,  young  feller  ?'  Traylor 
says,  as  cool  as  a  cucumber. 

"I  didn't  know  Traylor  them  days.  If  I  had,  I'd  'a' 
been  prepared  for  what  was  comin'. 

"Traylor  stood  up  nigh  the  barn  door,  which  Brim- 
stead  had  closed  after  we  backed  the  wagon  out. 

"The  young  feller  stepped  close  to  the  New  Salem 
man  and  raised  his  whip  for  a  blow.  Quick  as  lightnin' 
Traylor  grabbed  him  and  threw  him  ag'in'  the  barn 


n6  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

door,  keewhack !  He  hit  so  hard  the  boards  bent  and 
the  whole  barn  roared  and  trembled.  The  other  feller 
tried  to  get  his  pistol  out  of  its  holster,  but  Brimstead, 
who  stood  beside  him,  grabbed  it,  and  I  got  his  hoss 
by  the  bits  and  we  both  held  on.  The  young  feller 
lay  on  the  ground  shakin'  as  if  he  had  the  ague.  Ye 
never  see  a  man  so  spylt  in  a  second.  Traylor  picked 
him  up.  His  right  arm  was  broke  and  his  face  and 
shoulder  bruised  some.  Ye'd  a  thought  a  steam  en- 
gyne  had  blowed  up  while  he  was  puttin'  wood  in  it. 
He  was  kind  o'  limp  and  the  mad  had  leaked  out  o' 
him. 

"  'I  reckon  I  better  find  a  doctor,'  he  says. 

"  'You  get  into  my  wagon  and  I'll  take  ye  to  a  good 
one,'  says  Traylor. 

"Just  then  Stephen  Nuckles,  the  circuit  minister, 
rode  in  with  the  big  bloodhound  that  fellers  him 
around. 

"The  other  slaver  had  got  off  his  hoss  in  the  scrim- 
mage. Traylor  started  for  him.  The  slaver  began  to 
back  away  and  suddenly  broke  into  a  run.  The  big 
dog  took  after  him  with  a  kind  of  a  lion  roar.  We  all 
began  yelling  at  the  dog.  We  made  more  noise  than 
you'd  hear  at  the  end  of  a  hoss  race.  It  scairt  the 
young  feller.  He  put  on  more  steam  and  went  up  the 
ladder  to  the  roof  of  the  woodshed  like  a  chased 
weasel.  The  dog  stood  barkin'  as  if  he  had  treed  a 
bear.  Traylor  grabbed  the  ladder  and  pulled  it  down. 

"  'You  stay  there  till  I  get  away  an'  you'll  be  safe/ 
said  he. 

"The  man  looked  down  and  swore  and  shook  his  fist 
and  threatened  us  with  the  law. 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  117 

"Mr.  Nuckles  rode  close  to  the  woodshed  and  looked 
up  at  him. 

"  'My  brother,  I  fear  you  be  not  a  Christian/  he 
said. 

"He  swore  at  the  minister.     That  settled  him. 

"  'What's  all  this  erbout?'  Mr.  Nuckles  asked  me. 

"  'He  and  his  friend  are  from  Missouri/  I  says. 
'They're  lookin'  for  some  runaway  slaves  an'  they 
come  here  and  pitched  into  us,  and  one  got  throwed 
ag'in'  the  barn  an'  the  other  clum  to  the  roof/ 

"  'I  reckon  he  better  stay  thar  till  he  gits  a  little  o' 
God's  grace  in  his  soul/  says  the  minister. 

"Then  he  says  to  the  dog:  Tonto,  you  keep  'im 
right  than' 

"The  dog  appeared  to  understand  what  was  ex- 
pected of  him. 

"The  minister  got  off  his  hoss  and  hitched  him  and 
took  off  his  coat  and  put  it  on  the  ground. 

"  'What  you  goin'  to  do  ?'  I  says. 

"  'Me  ?'  says  the  minister.  'I  be  goin'  to  rassle  with 
Satan  for  the  soul  o'  that  'ar  man,  an'  if  you  keep 
watch  I  reckon  you'll  see  'at  the  ground'll  be  scratched 
up  some  'fore  I  git  through.' 

"He  loosened  his  collar  an'  knelt  on  hi's  coat  and 
began  to  pray  that  the  man's  soul  would  see  its  wicked- 
ness and  repent.  You  could  have  heard  him  half  a 
mile  away. 

"Mr.  Traylor  drove  off  with  the  damaged  slaver 
settin'  beside  him  and  the  saddle  hoss  hitched  to  the 
rear  axle.  I  see  my  chance  an'  before  that  prayer 
ended  I  had  got  the  fugitives  under  some  hay  in  my 
wagon  and  started  off  with  them  on  my  way  to  Liv- 


ii8  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

ingston  County.  I  could  hear  the  prayin'  until  I  got 
over  the  hill  into  Canaan  barrens.  At  sundown  I  left 
them  in  good  hands  thirty  miles  up  the  road." 

In  a  frontier  newspaper  of  that  time  it  is  recorded 
that  the  minister  and  his  dog  kept  the  slaver  on  the 
roof  all  day,  vainly  trying  with  prayer  and  exhortation 
to  convert  his  soul.  The  man  stopped  swearing  be- 
fore dinner  and  on  his  promise  not  again  to  violate 
the  commandment  a  good  meal  was  handed  up  to  him. 
He  was  liberated  at  sundown  and  spent  the  night  with 
Brimstead. 

"Who  is  that  big  sucker  who  grabbed  my  friend?" 
the  stranger  asked  Brimstead. 

"His  name  is  Samson  Traylor.  Comes  from  Ver- 
mont," was  the  answer. 

"He's  the  dog-gonedest  steam  engyne  of  a  man  I 
ever  see,  'pon  my  word,"  said  the  stranger. 

"An'  he's  about  the  gentlest,  womern  hearted  critter 
that  ever  drawed  the  breath  o'  life,"  said  Brimstead. 

"If  he  don't  look  out  'Liph  Biggs'll  kill  him — cer- 
tain." 

Samson  spoke  not  more  than  a  dozen  words  on  his 
way  back  to  New  Salem.  Amazed  and  a  little 
shocked  by  his  own  conduct,  he  sat  thinking.  After 
all  he  had  heard  and  seen,  the  threat  of  the  young 
upstart  had  provoked  him  beyond  his  power  of  endur- 
ance. Trained  to  the  love  of  liberty  and  justice,  the 
sensitive  mind  of  the  New  Englander  had  been  hurt 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  119 

by  the  story  of  the  fugitives.  Upon  this  hurt  the 
young  man  had  poured  the  turpentine  of  haughty,  im- 
perial manners.  In  all  the  strange  adventure  it  seemed 
to  him  that  he  had  felt  the  urge  of  God — in  the  letter 
of  Love  joy,  in  the  prayers  of  the  negro  woman  and 
the  minister,  in  his  own  wrath.  The  more  he  thought 
of  it  the  less  inclined  he  was  to  reproach  himself  for 
his  violence.  Slavery  was  a  relic  of  ancient  im- 
perialism. It  had  no  right  in  free  America.  There 
could  be  no  peace  with  it  save  for  a  little  time.  He 
would  write  to  his  friends  of  what  he  had  learned  of 
the  brutalities  of  slavery.  The  Missourians  would  tell 
their  friends  of  the  lawless  and  violent  men  of  the 
North,  who  cared  not  a  fig  for  the  property  rights  of  a 
southerner.  The  stories  would  travel  like  fire  in  dry 
grass. 

So,  swiftly,  the  thoughts  of  men  were  being  pre- 
pared for  the  great  battle  lines  of  the  future.  Samson 
saw  the  peril  of  it. 

As  they  rode  along  young  Mr.  Biggs  took  a  flask 
half  full  of  whisky  from  his  pocket  and  offered  it  to 
Samson.  The  latter  refused  this  tender  of  courtesy 
and  the  young  man  drank  alone.  He  complained  of 
pain  and  Samson  made  a  sling  of  his  muffler  and  put 
it  over  the  neck  and  arm  of  the  injured  Biggs  and 
drove  with  care  to  avoid  jolting.  For  the  first  time 
Samson  took  a  careful  and  sympathetic  look  at  him. 
He  was  a  handsome  youth,  about  six  feet  tall,  with 


120  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

dark  eyes  and  hair  and  a  small  black  mustache  and 
teeth  very  white  and  even. 

In  New  Salem  Samson  took  him  to  Dr.  Allen's 
office  and  helped  the  doctor  in  setting  the  broken  bone. 
Then  he  went  to  Offut's  store  and  found  Abe  reading 
his  law  book  and  gave  him  an  account  of  his  adven- 
ture. 

"I'm  both  glad  and  sorry,"  said  Abe.  "I'm  glad 
that  you  licked  the  slaver  and  got  the  negroes  out  of 
his  reach.  I  reckon  I'd  have  done  the  same  if  I  could. 
I'm  sorry  because  it  looks  to  me  like  the  beginning  of 
many  troubles.  The  whole  subject  of  slavery  is  full 
of  danger.  Naturally  southern  men  will  fight  for  their 
property,  and  there  is  a  growing  number  in  the  North 
who  will  fight  for  their  principles.  If  we  all  get  to 
fighting,  I  wonder  what  will  become  of  the  country. 
It  reminds  me  of  the  man  who  found  a  skunk  in  his 
house.  His  boy  was  going  after  the  critter  with  a 
club. 

"  'Look  here,  boy,'  he  said,  'when  you've  got  a 
skunk  in  the  house,  it's  a  good  time  to  be  careful.  You 
might  spyle  the  skunk  with  that  club,  but  the  skunk 
would  be  right  certain  to  spyle  the  house.  While  he's 
our  guest,  I  reckon  we'll  have  to  be  polite,  whether 
we  want  to  or  not.' ' 

"Looks  to  me  as  if  that  skunk  had  come  to  stay 

. 

until  he's  put  out,"  said  Samson. 

"That  may  be,"  Abe  answered.     "But  I  keep  hopin' 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  121 

that  we  can  swap  a  hen  for  the  house  and  get  rid  of 
him.  Anyhow,  it's  a  good  time  to  be  careful." 

"He  may  be  glad  to  live  with  me,  but  I  ain't  willin' 
to  live  with  him,"  Samson  rejoined.  "I  ain't  awful 
proud,  but  his  station  in  life  is  a  leetle  too  far  below 
mine.  If  I  tried  to  live  with  him,  I  would  get  the 
smell  on  my  soul  so  that  St.  Peter  would  wonder  what 
to  do  with  me." 

Abe  laughed. 

"That  touches  the  core  of  the  trouble,"  said  he.  "In 
the  North  most  men  have  begun  to  think  of  the  effect 
of  slavery  on  the  soul;  in  the  South  a  vast  majority 
are  thinking  of  its  effect  on  the  pocket.  One  stands 
for  a  moral  and  the  other  for  a  legal  right." 

"But  one  is  lighter  than  the  other,"  Samson  in- 
sisted. 

That  evening  Samson  set  down  the  events  of  the 
day  in  his  book  and  quoted  the  dialogue  in  Offut's 
store  in  which  he  had  had  a  part.  On  the  first  of 
February,  1840,  he  put  these  words  under  the  entry : 

"I  wouldn't  wonder  if  this  was  the  first  trip  on  the 
Underground  Railroad." 


CHAPTER  VII 

IN    WHICH    MR.    ELIPHALET    BIGGS    GETS    ACQUAINTED 
WITH  BIM   KELSO  AND  HER  FATHER. 

IN  a  musty  old  ledger  kept  by  James  Rutledge,  the 
owner  of  Rutledge' s  Tavern,  in  the  year  1832,  is  an 
entry  under  the  date  of  January  3ist  which  reads  as 
follows : 

"Arrived  this  day  Eliphalet  Biggs  of  26  Olive  Street, 
St.  Louis,  with  one  horse." 

Young  Mr.  Biggs  remained  at  Rutledge's  Tavern 
for  three  weeks  with  his  arm  in  a  sling  under  the  eye 
of  the  good  doctor.  The  Rutledges  were  Kentucky 
folk  and  there  the  young  man  had  found  a  sympathetic 
hearing  and  tender  care.  Dr.  Allen  had  forbidden  him, 
the  use  of  ardent  spirits  while  the  bone  was  knitting 
and  so  these  three  weeks  were  a  high  point  in  his  life 
so  to  speak. 

It  had  done  him  good  to  be  hurled  against  a  barn 
door  and  to  fall  trembling  and  confused  at  the  feet 
of  his  master.  He  had  never  met  his  master  until  he 
had  reached  Hopedale  that  morning.  The  event  had 
been  too  long  delayed.  Encouraged  by  idleness  and 
conceit  and  alcohol,  evil  passions  had  grown  rank  in 
the  soil  of  his  spirit.  Restraint  had  been  a  thing  un- 

122 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  123 

known  to  him.  He  had  ruled  the  little  world  in  which 
he  had  lived  by  a  sense  of  divine  right.  He  was  a 
prince  of  Egoland — that  province  of  America  which 
had  only  half  yielded  itself  to  the  principles  of  De- 
mocracy. 

Sobriety  and  the  barn  door  had  been  a  help  to  his 
soul.  More  of  these  heroic  remedies  might  have  saved 
him.  He  was  like  one  exiled,  for  a  term,  from  his 
native  heath.  After  the  ancient  fashion  of  princes, 
he  had  at  first  meditated  the  assassination  of  the  man 
who  had  blocked  his  way.  Deprived  of  the  heat  of 
alcohol,  his  purpose  sickened  and  died. 

It  must  be  said  that  he  served  his  term  as  a  sober 
human  being  quite  gracefully,  being  a  well  born  youth 
of  some  education.  A  few  days  he  spent  mostly  in 
bed,  while  his  friend,  who  had  come  on  from  Hope- 
dale,  took  care  of  him.  Soon  he  began  to  walk  about 
and  his  friend  returned  to  St.  Louis. 

His  fine  manners  and  handsome  form  and  face  cap- 
tured the  little  village,  most  of  whose  inhabitants  had 
come  from  Kentucky.  They  knew  a  gentleman  when 
they  saw  him.  They  felt  a  touch  of  awe  in  his  pres- 
ence. Mr.  Biggs  claimed  to  have  got  his  hurt  by  a 
fall  from  his  horse,  pride  leading  him  to  clothe  the 
facts  in  prevarication.  If  the  truth  had  been  known 
Samson  would  have  suffered  a  heavy  loss  of  popularity 
in  New  Salem. 

A  week  after  his  arrival  Ann  Rutledge  walked  over 


124  'A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

to  Jack  Kelso's  with  him.  Bim  fled  up  the  stick  ladder 
as  soon  as  they  entered  the  door.  Mr.  Kelso  was 
away  on  a  fox  hunt.  Ann  went  to  the  ladder  and 
called : 

"Bim,  I  saw  you  fly  up  that  ladder.  Come  back 
down.  Here's  a  right  nice  young  man  come  to  see 
you." 

"Is  he  good-looking?"  Bim  called. 

"Oh,  purty  as  a  picture,  black  eyes  and  hair  and 
teeth  like  pearls,  and  tall  and  straight,  and  he's  got  a 
be-e-autiful  little  mustache." 

"That's  enough!"  Bim  exclaimed.  "I  just  wish 
there  was  a  knot  hole  in  this  floor." 

"Come  on  down  here,"  Ann  urged. 

"I'm  scared,"  was  the  answer. 

"His  cheeks  are  as  red  as  roses  and  he's  got  a  lovely 
ring  and  big  watch  chain — pure  gold  and  yaller  as  a 
dandelion.  You  come  down  here." 

"Stop,"  Bim  answered.  "I'll  be  down  as  soon  as  I 
can  get  on  my  best  bib  and  tucker." 

She  was  singing  Sweet  Nightingale  as  she  began 
"to  fix  up,"  while  Ann  and  Mr.  Biggs  were  talking 
with  Mrs.  Kelso. 

"Ann,"  Bim  called  in  a  moment,  "had  I  better  put 
on  my  red  dress  or  my  blue?" 

"Yer  blue,  and  be  quick  about  it." 

"Don't  you  let  him  get  away  after  all  this  trouble." 

"I  won't." 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  125 

In  a  few  minutes  Bim  called  from  the  top  of  the 
ladder  to  Ann.  The  latter  went  and  looked  up  at  her. 
Both  girls  burst  into  peals  of  merry  laughter.  Bim 
had  put  on  a  suit  of  her  father's  old  clothes  and  her 
buffalo  skin  whiskers  and  was  a  wild  sight. 

"Don't  you  come  down  looking  like  that,"  said  Ann. 
"I'll  go  up  there  and  'tend  to  you." 

Ann  climbed  the  ladder  and  for  a  time  there  was 
much  laughing  and  chattering  in  the  little  loft.  By 
and  by  Ann  came  down.  Bim  hesitated,  laughing, 
above  the  ladder  for  a  moment,  and  presently  fol- 
lowed in  her  best  blue  dress,  against  which  the  golden 
curls  of  her  hair  fell  gracefully.  With  red  cheeks  and 
bright  eyes,  she  was  a  glowing  picture.  Very  timidly 
she  gave  her  hand  to  Mr.  Biggs. 

"It's  just  the  right  dress,"  he  said.  "It  goes  so  well 
with  your  hair.  I'm  glad  to  see  you.  I  have  never 
seen  a  girl  like  you  in  my  life." 

"If  I  knew  how,  I'd  look  different,"  said  Bim.  "I 
reckon  I  look  cross.  Cows  have  done  it.  Do  you  like 
cows  ?" 

"I  hate  cows — I've  got  a  thousand  cows  and  I  see 
as  little  of  them  as  possible,"  said  he. 

"It  is  such  a  pleasure  to  hate  cows !"  Bim  exclaimed. 
"There's  nothing  I  enjoy  so  much." 

"Why?"  Ann  asked. 

"I  am  not  sure,  but  I  think  it  is  because  they  give 
milk — such  quantities  of  milk !  Sometimes  I  lie  awake 


126  'A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

at  night  hating  cows.     There  are  so  many  cows  here 
it  keeps  me  busy." 

"Bim  has  to  milk  a  cow — that's  the  reason,"  said 
Ann. 

"I'd  like  to  come  over  and  see  her  do  it,"  said  Mr. 
Biggs. 

"If  you  do  I'll  milk  in  your  face — honest  I  will," 
said  Bim. 

"I  wouldn't  care  if  it  rained  milk.     I'm  going  to 
come  and  see  you  often,  if  your  mother  will  let  me." 

A  blush  spread  over  the  girl's  cheeks  to  the  pretty 
dimple  at  the  point  of  her  chin. 

"You'll  see  her  scampering  up  the  ladder  like  a 
squirrel,"  said  Mrs.  Kelso.    "She  isn't  real  tame  yet." 
"Perhaps  we  could  hide  the  ladder,"  he  suggested," 
with  a  smile. 

"Do  you  play  on  the  flute?"  Bim  asked. 
"No,"  said  Mr.  Biggs. 

"I  was  afraid,"  Bim  exclaimed.    "My  Uncle  Henry 
does."    She  looked  into  Mr.  Biggs'  eyes. 
"You  like  fun — don't  you?"  he  said. 
"Have  you  got  a  snare  drum  ?"  Bim  queried. 
"No.    What  put  that  into  your  head?"  Mr.  Biggs 
asked,  a  litde  mystified. 

"I  don't  know.  I  thought  I'd  ask.  My  Uncle  Henry 
has  a  snare  drum.  That's  one  reason  we  came  to 
Illinois." 

Mr.  Biggs  laughed.  "That  smile  of  yours  is  very 
becoming,"  he  said. 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  127 

"Did  you  ever  dream  of  a  long  legged,  brindle  cat 
with  yellow  eyes  and  a  blue  tail?"  she  asked,  as  if  to 
change  the  subject 

"Never!" 

"I  wisht  you  had.  Maybe  you'd  know  how  to  scare 
it  away.  It  carries  on  so." 

"I  know  what  would  fix  that  cat,"  said  Mrs.  Kelso. 
"Give  him  the  hot  biscuits  which  you  sometimes  eat 
for  supper.  He'll  never  come  again." 

At  this  point  Mr.  Kelso  returned  with  his  gun  on 
his  shoulder  and  was  introduced  to  Mr.  Biggs. 

"I  welcome  you  to  the  hazards  of  my  fireside,"  said 
Kelso.  "So  you're  from  St.  Louis  and  stopped  for  re- 
pairs in  this  land  of  the  ladder  climbers.  Sit  down  and 
I'll  put  a  log  on  the  fire." 

"Thank  you,  I  must  go,"  said  Biggs.  "The  doctor 
will  be  looking  for  me  now." 

"Can  I  not  stay  you  with  flagons  ?"  Kelso  asked. 

"The  doctor  has  forbidden  me  all  drink  but  milk 
and  water." 

"A  wise  man  is  Dr.  Allen !"  Kelso  exclaimed.  "Cer- 
vantes was  right  in  saying  that  too  much  wine  will 
neither  keep  a  secret  nor  fulfill  a  promise." 

"Will  you  make  me  a  promise?"  Bim  asked  of  Mr. 
Biggs,  as  he  was  leaving  the  door  with  Ann. 

"Anything  you  will  ask,"  he  answered. 

"Please  don't  ever  look  at  the  new  moon  through  a 
knot  hole,"  she  said  in  a  half  whisper. 

The  young  man  laughed.     "Why  not?" 


128  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

"If  you  do,  you'll  never  get  married." 

"I  mustn't  look  at  the  new  moon  through  a  knot 
hole  and  I  must  beware  of  the  flute  and  the  snare 
drum,"  said  Mr.  Biggs. 

"Don't  be  alarmed  by  my  daughter's  fancies," 
Kelso  advised.  "They  are  often  rather  astonishing. 
She  has  a  hearty  prejudice  against  the  flute.  It  is 
well  founded.  An  ill  played  flute  is  one  of  the  worst 
enemies  of  law  and  order.  Goldsmith  estranged  half 
his  friends  with  a  grim  determination  to  play  the  flute. 
It  was  the  skeleton  in  his  closet." 

So  Mr.  Eliphalet  Biggs  met  the  pretty  daughter  of 
Jack  Kelso.  On  his  way  back  to  the  tavern  he  told 
Ann  that  he  had  fallen  in  love  with  the  sweetest  and 
prettiest  girl  in  all  the  world — Bim  Kelso.  That  very 
evening  Ann  went  over  to  Kelso's  cabin  to  take  the 
news  to  Bim  and  her  mother  and  to  tell  them  that  her 
father  reckoned  he  belonged  to  a  very  rich  and  a  very 
grand  family.  Naturally,  they  felt  a  sense  of  elation, 
although  Mrs.  Kelso,  being  a  woman  of  shrewdness, 
was  not  carried  away.  Mr.  Kelso  had  gone  to  Offut's 
store  and  the  three  had  the  cabin  to  themselves. 

"I  think  he's  just  a  wonderful  man!"  Bim  ex- 
claimed. "But  I'm  sorry  his  name  is  so  much  like 
figs  and  pigs.  I'm  plum  sure  I'm  going  to  love  him." 

"I  thought  you  were  in  love  with  Harry  Needles," 
Bim's  mother  said  to  her. 

"I  am.     But  he  keeps  me  so  busy.     I  have  to  dress 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  129 

him  up  every  day  and  put  a  mustache  on  him  and 
think  up  ever  so  many  nice  things  for  him  to  say,  and 
when  he  comes  he  doesn't  say  them.  He's  terribly 
young." 

"The  same  age  as  you.  I  think  he  is  a  splendid  boy 
— so  does  everybody." 

"I  have  to  make  all  his  courage  for  him,  and  then 
he  never  will  use  it,"  Bim  went  on.  "He  has  never 
said  whether  he  likes  my  looks  or  not." 

"But  there's  time  enough  for  that — you  are  only  a 
child,"  said  her  mother.  "You  told  me  that  he  said 
once  you  were  beautiful." 

"But  he  has  never  said  it  twice,  and  when  he  did 
say  it,  I  didn't  believe  my  ears,  he  spoke  so  low.  Acted 
kind  o'  like  he  was  scared  of  it.  I  don't  want  to  wait 
forever  to  be  really  and  truly  loved,  do  I  ?" 

Mrs.  Kelso  laughed.  "It's  funny  to  hear  a  baby 
talking  like  that,"  she  said.  "We  don't  know  this 
young  man.  He's  probably  only  fooling  anyway." 

Bim  rose  and  stood  very  erect. 

"Mother,  do  you  think  I  look  like  a  baby?"  she 
asked.  "I  tell  you  I'm  every  inch  a  woman,"  she  added, 
mimicking  her  father  in  the  speech  of  Lear. 

"But  there  are  not  many  inches  in  you  yet." 

"How  discouraging  you  are !"  said  Bim,  sinking  into 
her  chair  with  a  sigh. 

Bim  went  often  to  the  little  tavern  after  that.  Of 
those  meetings  little  is  known,  save  that,  with  all  the 


130  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

pretty  arts  of  the  cavalier,  unknown  to  Harry  Needles, 
the  handsome  youth  flattered  and  delighted  the  girl. 
This  went  on  day  by  day  for  a  fortnight.  The  eve- 
ning before  Biggs  was  to  leave  for  his  home,  Bim  went 
over  to  eat  supper  with  Ann  at  the  tavern. 

It  happened  that  Jack  Kelso  had  found  Abe  sitting 
alone  with  his  Blackstone  in  Offut's  store  that  after- 
noon. 

"Mr.  Kelso,  did  you  ever  hear  what  Eb  Zane  said 
about  the  general  subject  of  sons-in-law?"  Abe  asked. 

"Never — but  I  reckon  it  would  be  wise  and  possibly 
apropos,"  said  Kelso. 

"He  said  that  a  son-in-law  was  a  curious  kind  o' 
property,"  Abe  began.  "  'Ye  know,'  says  Eb,  'if  ye 
have  a  hoss  that's  tricky  an'  dangerous  an'  wuth  less 
than  nothin',  ye  can  give  him  away  er  kill  him,  but  if 
ye  have  a  son-in-law  that's  wuthless,  nobody  else  will 
have  him  an'  it's  ag'in'  the  law  to  kill  him.  Fust  ye 
know  ye've  got  a  critter  on  yer  hands  that  kicks  an' 
won't  work  an'  has  to  be  fed  an'  liquored  three  times 
a  day  an'  is  wuth  a  million  dollars  less  than  nothin'.' ' 

There  was  a  moment  of  silence. 

"When  a  man  is  figurin'  his  assets,  it's  better  to  add 
ten  dollars  than  to  subtract  a  million,"  said  Abe. 
"That's  about  as  simple  as  adding  up  the  weight  o' 
three  small  hogs." 

"What  a  well  of  wisdom  you  are,  Abe !"  said  Kelso. 
"Do  you  know  anything  about  this  young  Missourian 
who  is  shining  up  to  Bim?" 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  131 

"I  only  know  that  he  was  a  drinking  man  up  to  the 
time  he  landed  here  and  that  he  threatened  Traylor 
with  his  whip  and  got  thrown  against  the  side  of  a 
barn — plenty  hard.  He's  a  kind  of  American  king, 
and  I  don't  like  kings.  They're  nice  to  look  at,  but 
generally  those  that  have  married  'em  have  had  one 
h — 1  of  a  time." 

Kelso  rose  and  went  home  to  supper. 

Soon  after  the  supper  dishes  had  been  laid  away  in 
the  Kelso  cabin,  young  Mr.  Biggs  rapped  on  its  door 
and  pulled  the  latch-string  and  entered  and  sat  down 
with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Kelso  at  the  fireside. 

"I  have  come  to  ask  for  your  daughter's  hand/'  he 
said,  as  soon  as  they  were  seated.  "I  know  it  will  seem 
sudden,  but  she  happens  to  be  the  girl  I  want.  I've 
had  her  picture  in  my  heart  always.  I  love  your 
daughter.  I  can  give  her  a  handsome  home  and  every- 
thing she  could  desire." 

Kelso  answered  promptly:  "We  are  glad  to  wel- 
come you  here,  but  we  can  not  entertain  such  a  pro- 
posal, flattering  as  it  is.  Our  daughter  is  too  young 
to  think  of  marriage.  Then,  sir,  we  know  very  little 
about  you,  and  may  I  be  pardoned  if  I  add  that  it 
does  not  recommend  you  ?" 

The  young  man  was  surprised.  He  had  not  ex- 
pected such  talk  from  a  ladder  climber.  He  looked  at 
Kelso,  groping  for  an  answer.  Then — 

"Perhaps  not,"  said  he.  "I  have  been  a  little  wild, 
but  that  is  all  in  the  past.  You  can  learn  about  me 


1 32  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

and  my  family  from  any  one  in  St.  Louis.  I  am  not 
ashamed  of  anything  I  have  done." 

"Nevertheless,  I  must  ask  you  to  back  away  from 
this  subject.  I  can  not  even  discuss  it  with  you." 

"May  I  not  hope  that  you  will  change  your  mind?" 

"Not  at  present.    Let  the  future  take  care  of  itself." 

"I  generally  get  what  I  want,"  said  the  young  man. 

"And  now  and  then  something  that  you  don't  want," 
said  Kelso,  a  bit  nettled  by  his  persistence. 

"You  ought  to  think  of  her  happiness.  She  is  too 
sweet  and  beautiful  for  a  home  like  this." 

There  was  an  awkward  moment  of  silence.  The 
young  man  said  good  night  and  opened  the  door. 

"I'll  go  with  you,"  said  Kelso. 

He  went  with  Mr.  Biggs  to  the  tavern  and  got  his 
daughter  and  returned  home  with  her. 

Mrs.  Kelso  chided  her  husband  for  being  hard  on 
Mr.  Biggs. 

"He  has  had  his  lesson,  perhaps  he  will  turn  over  a 
new  leaf,"  she  said. 

"I  fear  there  isn't  a  new  leaf  in  his  book,"  said 
Kelso.  'They're  all  dirty." 

He  told  his  wife  what  Abe  had  said  in  the  store. 

"The  wisdom  of  the  common  folk  is  in  that  beard- 
less young  giant,"  he  said.  "It  is  the  wisdom  of  many 
generations  gathered  in  the  hard  school  of  bitter  ex- 
perience. I  wonder  where  it  is  going  to  lead  him." 

As  Eliphalet  Biggs  was  going  down  the  south  road 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  133 

next  morning  he  met  Bim  on  her  pony  near  the  school- 
house,  returning  from  the  field  with  her  cow.  They 
stopped. 

"I'm  coming  back,  little  girl,"  he  said. 

"What  for?"  she  asked. 

"To  tell  you  a  secret  and  ask  you  a  question.  No- 
body but  you  has  the  right  to  say  I  can  not.  May  I 
come  ?" 

"I  suppose  you  can — if  you  want  to,"  she  answered. 

"I'll  come  and  I'll  write  to  you  and  send  the  letters 
to  Ann." 

Menton  Graham,  who  lived  in  the  schoolhouse,  had 
come  out  of  its  door. 

"Good-by!"  said  young  Mr.  Biggs,  as  his  heels 
touched  the  flanks  of  his  horse.  Then  he  went  flying 
down  the  road. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

WHEREIN  ABE  MAKES  SUNDRY  WISE  REMARKS  TO  THE 
BOY  HARRY  AND  ANNOUNCES  HIS  PURPOSE  TO  BE  A 
CANDIDATE  FOR  THE  LEGISLATURE  AT  KELSONS  DIN- 
NER PARTY. 

HARRY  NEEDLES  met  Bim  Kelso  on  the  road  next 
day,  when  he  was  going  down  to  see  if  there  was  any 
mail.  She  was  on  her  pony.  He  was  in  his  new  suit 
of  clothes — a  butternut  background  striped  into  large 
checks. 

"You  look  like  a  walking  checkerboard,"  said  she, 
stopping  her  pony. 

"This — this  is  my  new  suit,"  Harry  answered,  look- 
ing down  at  it. 

"It's  a  tiresome  suit,"  said  she  impatiently.  "I've 
been  playing  checkers  on  it  since  I  caught  sight  o'  you, 
and  I've  got  a  man  crowned  in  the  king  row." 

"I  thought  you'd  like  it,"  he  answered,  quite 
seriously,  and  with  a  look  of  disappointment.  "Say, 
I've  got  that  razor  and  I've  shaved  three  times  al- 
ready." 

He  took  the  razor  from  his  pocket  and  drew  it  from 
its  case  and  proudly  held  it  up  before  her. 

134 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  135 

"Don't  tell  anybody,"  he  warned  her.  "They'd 
laugh  at  me.  They  wouldn't  know  how  I  feel." 

"I  won't  say  anything,"  she  answered.  "I  reckon 
I  ought  to  tell  you  that  I  don't  love  you — not  so  much 
as  I  did  anyway — not  near  so  much.  I  only  love  you 
just  a  wee  little  bit  now." 

It  is  curious  that  she  should  have  said  just  that. 
Her  former  confession  had  only  been  conveyed  by  the 
look  in  her  eyes  at  sundry  times  and  by  unpremeditated 
acts  in  the  hour  of  his  peril. 

Harry's  face  fell. 

"Do  you — love — some  other  man?"  he  asked. 

"Yes — a  regular  man — mustache,  six  feet  tall  and 
everything.  I  just  tell  you  he's  purty!" 

"Is  it  that  rich  feller  from  St.  Louis?"  he  asked. 

She  nodded  and  then  whispered:    "Don't  you  tell." 

The  boy's  lips  trembled  when  he  answered.  "I  won't 
tell.  But  I  don't  see  how  you  can  do  it" 

"Why?" 

"He  drinks  and  he  keeps  slaves  and  beats  them  with 
a  bull  whip.  He  isn't  respectable." 

"That's  a  lie,"  she  answered  quickly.  "I  don't  care 
what  you  say." 

Bim  touched  her  pony  with  the  whip  and  rode  away. 

Harry  staggered  for  a  moment  as  he  went  on.  His 
eyes  filled  with  tears.  It  seemed  to  him  that  the  world 
had  been  ruined.  On  his  way  to  the  village  he  tried 


136  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

and  convicted  it  of  being  no  fit  place  for  a  boy  to  live 
in.  Down  by  the  tavern  he  met  Abe,  who  stopped  him. 

"Howdy,  Harry!"  said  Abe.  "You  look  kind  o' 
sick.  Come  into  the  store  and  sit  down.  I  want  to 
talk  to  you." 

Harry  followed  the  big  man  into  Offut's  store,  flat- 
tered by  his  attention.  There  had  been  something 
very  grateful  in  the  sound  of  Abe's  voice  and  the  feel 
of  his  hand.  The  store  was  empty. 

"You  and  I  mustn't  let  ourselves  be  worried  by 
little  matters,"  said  Abe,  as  they  sat  down  together 
by  the  fire.  "Things  that  seem  to  you  to  be  as  big  as 
a  mountain  now  will  look  like  a  mole  hill  in  six 
months.  You  and  I  have  got  things  to  do,  partner. 
We  mustn't  let  ourselves  be  fooled.  I  was  once  in  a 
boat  with  old  Cap'n  Chase  on  the  Illinois  River.  We 
had  got  into  the  rapids.  It  was  a  narrow  channel  in 
dangerous  water.  They  had  to  keep  her  headed  just 
so  or  we'd  have  gone  on  the  rocks.  Suddenly  a  boy 
dropped  his  apple  overboard  and  began  to  holler.  He 
wanted  to  have  the  boat  stopped.  For  a  minute  that 
boy  thought  his  apple  was  the  biggest  thing  in  the 
world.  We're  all  a  good  deal  like  him.  We  keep 
dropping  our  apples  and  calling  for  the  boat  to  stop. 
Soon  we  find  out  that  there  are  many  apples  in  the 
world  as  good  as  that  one.  You  have  all  come  to  a 
stretch  of  bad  water  up  at  your  house.  The  folks 
have  been  sick.  They're  a  little  lonesome  and  dis- 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  137 

couraged.  Don't  you  make  it  any  harder  by  crying 
over  a  lost  apple.  Ye  know  it's  possible  that  the  apple 
will  float  along  down  into  the  still  water  where  you 
can  pick  it  up  by  and  by.  The  important  thing  is  to 
keep  going  ahead." 

This  bit  of  fatherly  counsel  was  a  help  to  the  boy. 

"I've  got  a  book  here  that  I  want  you  to  read,"  Abe 
went  on.  "It  is  the  Life  of  Henry  Clay.  Take  it 
home  and  read  it  carefully  and  then  bring  it  back  and 
tell  me  what  you  think  of  it.  You  may  be  a  Henry 
Clay  yourself  by  and  by.  The  world  has  something 
big  in  it  for  every  one  if  he  can  only  find  it.  We're 
all  searching — some  for  gold  and  some  for  fame.  I 
pray  God  every  day  that  He  will  help  me  to  find  my 
work — the  thing  I  can  do  better  than  anything  else 
— and  when  it  is  found  help  me  to  do  it.  I  expect  it 
will  be  a  hard  and  dangerous  search  and  that  I  shall 
make  mistakes.  I  expect  to  drop  some  apples  on  my 
way.  They'll  look  like  gold  to  me,  but  I'm  not  going 
to  lose  sight  of  the  main  purpose." 

When  Harry  got  home  he  found  Sarah  sewing  by 
the  fireside,  with  Joe  and  Betsey  playing  by  the  bed. 
Samson  had  gone  to  the  woods  to  split  rails. 

"Any  mail?"  Sarah  asked. 

"No  mail,"  he  answered. 

Sarah  went  to  the  window  and  stood  for  some 
minutes  looking  out  at  the  plain.  Its  sere  grasses, 
protruding  out  of  the  snow,  hissed  and  bent  in  the 


138  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

wind.  In  its  cheerless  winter  colors  it  was  a  dreary 
thing  to  see. 

"How  I  long  for  home!"  she  exclaimed,  as  she  re- 
sumed her  sewing  by  the  fire. 

Little  Joe  came  and  stood  by  her  knee  and  gave  her 
his  oft  repeated  blessing : 

"God  help  us  and  make  His  face  to  shine  upon  us." 

She  kissed  him  and  said:  "Dear  comforter!  It 
shines  upon  me  every  time  I  hear  you  say  those 
words." 

The  little  lad  had  observed  the  effect  of  the  blessing 
on  his  mother  in  'her  moments  of  depression  and  many 
times  his  parroting  had  been  the  word  in  season.  Now 
he  returned  to  his  play  again,  satisfied. 

"Would  you  mind  if  I  called  you  mother?"  Harry 
asked. 

"I  shall  be  glad  to  have  you  do  it  if  it  gives  you  any 
comfort,  Harry,"  she  answered. 

She  observed  that  there  were  tears  in  his  eyes. 

"We  are  all  very  fond  of  you,"  she  said,  as  she  bent 
to  her  task. 

Then  the  boy  told  her  the  history  of  his  morning — 
the  talk  with  Bim,  with  the  razor  omitted  from  it; 
how  he  had  met  Abe  and  all  that  Abe  had  said  to  him 
as  they  sat  together  in  the  store. 

"Well,  Harry,  if  she's  such  a  fool,  you're  lucky  to 
have  found  it  out  so  soon,"  said  Sarah.  "She  does 
little  but  ride  the  pony  and  play  around  with  a  gun. 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  139 

I  don't  believe  she  ever  spun  a  'hank  o'  yarn  in  her  life. 
She'll  get  her  teeth  cut  by  and  by.  Abe  is  right. 
We're  always  dropping  our  apples  and  feeling  very 
bad  about  it,  until  we  find  out  that  there  are  lots  of 
apples  just  as  good.  I'm  that  way  myself.  I  guess 
I've  made  it  harder  for  Samson  crying  over  lost  ap- 
ples. I'm  going  to  try  to  stop  It." 

Then  fell  a  moment  of  silence.    Soon  she  said : 

"There's  a  bitter  wind  blowing  and  there's  no  great 
hurry  about  the  rails,  I  guess.  You  sit  here  by  the 
fire  and  read  your  book  this  forenoon.  Maybe  it  will 
help  you  to  find  your  work." 

So  it  happened  that  the  events  of  Harry's  morning 
found  their  place  in  the  diary  which  Sarah  and  Sam- 
son kept.  Long  afterward  Harry  added  the  sentences 
about  the  razor. 

That  evening  Harry  read  aloud  from  the  Life  of 
Henry  Clay,  while  Sarah  and  Samson  sat  listening  by 
the  fireside.  It  was  the  first  of  many  evenings  which 
they  spent  in  a  like  fashion  that  winter.  When  the 
book  was  finished  they  read,  on  Abe's  recommenda- 
tion, Weem's  Life  of  Washington. 

Every  other  Sunday  they  went  down  to  the  school- 
house  to  hear  John  Cameron  preach.  He  was  a  work- 
ing man,  noted  for  good  common  sense,  who  talked 
simply  and  often  effectively  of  the  temptations  of  the 
frontier,  notably  those  of  drinking,  gaming  and  swear- 
ing. One  evening  they  went  to  a  debate  in  the  tavern 


140  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

on  the  issues  of  the  day,  in  which  Abe  won  the  praise 
of  all  for  an  able  presentation  of  the  claim  of  Internal 
Improvements.  During  that  evening  Alexander  Fer- 
guson declared  that  he  would  not  cut  his  hair  until 
Henry  Clay  became  president,  the  news  of  which 
resolution  led  to  a  like  insanity  in  others  and  an  age 
of  unexampled  hairiness  on  that  part  of  the  border. 

For  Samson  and  Sarah  the  most  notable  social 
event  of  the  winter  was  a  chicken  dinner  at  which  they 
and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  James  Rutledge  and  Ann  and  Abe 
Lincoln  and  Dr.  Allen  were  the  guests  of  the  Kelsos. 
That  night  Harry  stayed  at  home  with  the  children. 

Kelso  was  in  his  best  mood. 

"Come,"  he  said,  when  dinner  was  ready.  "Life  is 
more  than  friendship.  It  is  partly  meat." 

"And  mostly  Kelso,"  said  Dr.  Allen. 

"Ah,  Doctor!  Long  life  has  made  you  as  smooth 
as  an  old  shilling  and  nimbler  than  a  sixpence,"  Kelso 
declared.  "And,  speaking  of  life,  Aristotle  said  that 
the  learned  and  the  unlearned  were  as  the  living  and 
the  dead." 

"It  is  true,"  Abe  interposed.  "I  say  it,  in  spite  of 
the  fact  that  it  slays  me." 

"You?  No!  You  are  alive  to  your  finger  tips," 
Kelso  answered. 

"But  I  have  mastered  only  eight  books,"  said  Abe. 

"And  one — the  book  of  common  sense,  and  that 
has  wised  you,"  Kelso  went  on.  "Since  I  came  to 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  141 

this  country  I  have  learned  to  beware  of  the  one-book 
man.  There  are  more  living  men  in  America  than  in 
any  land  I  have  seen.  The  man  who  reads  one  good 
book  thoughtfully  is  alive  and  often  my  master  in 
wit  or  wisdom.  Reading  is  the  gate  and  thought  is 
the  pathway  of  real  life." 

"I  think  that  most  of  the  men  I  know  have  read 
the  Bible,"  said  Abe. 

"A  wonderful  and  a  saving  fact !  It  is  a  sure  foun-. 
dation  to  build  your  life  upon." 

Kelso  paused  to  pour  whisky  from  a  jug  at  his 
side  for  those  who  would  take  it. 

"Let  us  drink  to  our  friend  Abe  and  his  new  am- 
bition," he  proposed. 

"What  is  it?"  Samson  asked. 

"I  am  going  to  try  for  a  seat  in  the  Legislature,"  said 
Abe.  "I  reckon  it's  rather  bold.  Old  Samuel  Legg 
was  a  good  deal  of  a  nuisance  down  in  Hardin  County. 
He  was  always  talking  about  going  to  Lexington,  but 
never  went. 

"  'You'll  never  get  thar  without  startin','  said  his 
neighbor. 

"  'But  I'm  powerful  skeered  fer  fear  I'd  never  git 
back,'  said  Samuel.  There's  a  big  passel  o'  folks 
that  gits  killed  in  the  city.' 

"  'You  always  was  a  selfish  cuss.  You  ought  to 
think  o'  yer  neighbors,'  said  the  other  man. 

"So  I've  concluded  that  if  I  don't  start  I'll  never  get 


142  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

there,  and  if  I  die  on  the  way  it  will  be  a  good  thing 
for  my  neighbors,"  Abe  added. 

The  toast  was  drunk,  and  by  some  in  water,  after 
which  Abe  said : 

"If  you  have  the  patience  to  listen  to  it,  I'd  like  to 
read  my  declaration  to  the  voters  of  Sangamon 
County." 

Samson's  diary  briefly  describes  this  appeal  as  fol- 
lows: 

"He  said  that  he  wanted  to  win  the  confidence  and 
esteem  of  his  fellow  citizens.  This  he  hoped  to  ac- 
complish by  doing  something  which  would  make  him 
worthy  of  it.  He  had  been  thinking  of  the  county.  A 
railroad  would  do  more  for  it  than  anything  else,  but 
a  railroad  would  be  too  costly.  The  improvement  of 
the  Sangamon  River  was  the  next  best  thing.  Its 
channel  could  be  straightened  and  cleared  of  drift- 
wood and  made  navigable  for  small  vessels  under 
thirty  tons'  burden.  He  favored  a  usury  law  and  said, 
in  view  of  the  talk  he  had  just  heard,  he  was  going 
to  favor  the  improvement  and  building  of  schools,  so 
that  every  one  could  learn  how  to  read,  at  least,  and 
learn  for  himself  what  is  in  the  Bible  and  other  great 
books.  It  was  a  modest  statement  and  we  all  liked  it." 

"Whatever  happens  to  the  Sangamon,  one  statement 
in  that  platform  couldn't  be  improved,"  said  Kelso. 

"What  is  that?"  Abe  asked. 

"It's  the  one  that  says  you  wish  to  win  the  regard 
of  your  fellows  by  serving  them." 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  .  143' 

"It's  a  lot  better  than  saying  that  he  wishes  to 
serve  Abe,"  said  Dr.  Allen,  a  remark  which  referred 
to  a  former  conversation  with  Abe,  in  which  Kelso 
had  had  a  part. 

"You  can  trust  Abe  to  take  the  right  turn  at  every 
fork  in  the  road,"  Kelso  went  on.  "If  you  stick  to 
that,  my  boy,  and  continue  to  study,  you'll  get  there 
and  away  beyond  any  goal  you  may  now  see.  A  pas- 
sion for  service  is  more  than  half  the  battle.  Since 
the  other  night  at  the  tavern  I've  been  thinking  about 
Abe  and  the  life  we  live  here.  I've  concluded  that 
we're  all  very  lucky,  if  we  are  a  bit  lonesome." 

"I'd  like  to  know  about  that,"  said  Sarah.  "I'm  a 
little  in  need  of  encouragement." 

"Well,  you  may  have  observed  that  Abe  has  a  good 
memory,"  he  continued.  "While  I  try  to  be  modest 
about  it,  my  own  memory  is  a  fairly  faithful  servant. 
It  is  due  to  the  fact  that  since  I  left  the  university  I 
have  lived,  mostly,  in  lonely  places.  It  is  a  great  thing 
to  be  where  the  register  of  your  mind  is  not  over- 
burdened by  the  flow  of  facts.  Abe's  candidacy  is  the 
only  thing  that  has  happened  here  since  Samson's 
raising,  except  the  arrival  and  departure  of  Eliphalet 
Biggs.  Our  memories  are  not  weakened  by  overwork. 
They  have  time  for  big  undertakings — like  Burns  and 
Shakespeare  and  Blackstone." 

"I've  noticed  that  facts  get  kind  o'  slippery  when 
they  come  in  a  bunch,  as  they  did  on  our  journey,'* 


144  'A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

said  Samson.  "Seems  so  they  wore  each  other  smooth 
and  got  hard  to  hold." 

"Ransom  Prigg  used  to  say  it  was  easy  enough  to 
ketch  eels,  but  it  was  powerful  hard  to  hold  'em,"  Abe 
remarked.  "He  caught  three  eels  in  a  trap  one  day 
and  the  trap  busted  and  let  'em  loose  in  the  boat.  He 
kept  grabbin'  and  tusslin'  around  the  boat  till  the  last 
eel  got  away.  'I  never  had  such  a  slippery  time  in  all 
the  days  q'  my  life,'  said  Rans.  'One  eel  is  a  dinner, 
but  three  eels  is  jest  a  lot  o'  slippin'  an'  disapp'int- 
ment.' " 

"That's  exactly  the  point  I  make,"  said  Kelso.  "A 
man  with  too  many  eels  in  the  boat  will  have  none  for 
dinner.  The  city  man  is  at  a  great  disadvantage. 
'Events  slip  away  from  him  and  leave  nothing.  His 
intellect  gets  the  habit  of  letting  go.  It  loses  its  power 
to  seize  and  hold.  His  impressions  are  like  footprints 
on  a  beach.  They  are  washed  away  by  the  next  tide." 

There  was  much  talk  at  the  fireside  after  dinner,  all 
of  which  doubtless  had  an  effect  on  the  fortunes  of  the 
good  people  who  sat  around  it,  and  the  historian  must 
sort  the  straws,  and  with  some  regret,  for  bigger  things 
are  drawing  near  in  the  current.  Samson  and  Sarah 
had  been  telling  of  their  adventures  on  the  long  road. 

"We  are  all  movers,"  said  Kelso.  "We  can  not  stay 
where  we  are  for  a  single  day — not  if  we  are  alive. 
Most  of  us  never  reach  that  eminence  from  which  we 
discover  the  littleness  of  ourselves  and  our  troubles 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  145 

and  achievements  and  the  immensities  of  power  and 
wisdom  by  which  we  are  surrounded." 

At  least  one  of  that  company  was  to  remember  the 
words  in  days  of  adversity  and  triumph.  Soon  after 
that  dinner  the  memories  of  the  little  community  be- 
gan to  register  an  unusual  procession  of  thrilling  facts. 

Early  in  April  an  Indian  scare  spread  from  the 
capital  to  the  remotest  corners  of  the  state.  Black 
Hawk,  with  many  warriors,  had  crossed  the  Missis- 
sippi and  was  moving  toward  the  Rock  River  country. 
Governer  Reynolds  called  for  volunteers  to  check  the 
invasion. 

Abe,  whose  address  to  the  voters  had  been  printed 
i'n  the  Sangamon  Journal,  joined  a  volunteer  company 
and  soon  became  its  captain.  On  the  tenth  of  April  he 
and  Harry  Needles  left  for  Richland  to  go  into  train- 
ing. Samson  was  eager  to  go,  but  could  not  leave  his 
family. 

Bim  Kelso  rode  out  into  the  fields  where  Harry  was 
at  work  the  day  before  he  went  away. 

"This  is  a  great  surprise,"  said  Harry.  "I  don't 
see  you  any  more  except  at  a  distance." 

"I  don't  see  you  either." 

"I  didn't  think  you  wanted  to  see  me." 

"You're  easily  discouraged,"  she  said,  looking  down 
with  a  serious  face. 

"You  made  me  feel  as  if  I  didn't  want  to  live  any 
longer." 


146  M  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

"I  reckon  I'm  mean.  I  made  myself  feel  a  million 
times  worse.  It's  awful  to  be  such  a  human  as  I  am. 
Some  days  I'm  plum  scared  o'  myself." 

"I'm  going  away,"  the  boy  said,  in  a  rather  mourn- 
ful tone. 

"I  hate  to  have  you  go.  I  just  love  to  know  you're 
here,  if  I  don't  see  you.  Only  I  wish  you  was  older 
and  knew  more." 

"Maybe  I  know  more'n  you  think  I  do,"  he  an- 
swered. 

"But  you  don't  know  anything  about  my  troubles," 
said  she,  with  a  sigh. 

"I  don't  get  the  chance." 

There  was  half  a  moment  of  silence.  She  ended  it 
by  saying : 

"Ann  and  I  are  going  to  the  spelling  school  to- 
night." 

"Can  I  go  with  you?" 

"Could  you  stand  it  to  be  talked  to  and  scolded  by 
a  couple  of  girls  till  you  didn't  care  what  happened  to 
you?" 

"Yes;  I've  got  to  be  awful  careless." 

"We'll  be  all  dressed  up  and  ready  at  quarter  of 
eight.  Come  to  the  tavern.  I'm  going  to  have  supper 
with  Ann.  She  is  just  terribly  happy.  John  McNeil 
has  told  her  that  he  loves  her.  It's  a  secret.  Don't 
you  tell." 

"I  won't.    Does  she  love  him?" 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  147 

"Devotedly;  but  she  wouldn't  let  him  know  it — not 
yet." 

"No?" 

"Course  not.  She  pretends  she's  in  love  with  some- 
body else.  It's  the  best  way.  I  reckon  he'll  be  plum 
anxious  before  she  owns  up.  But  she  truly  loves  him. 
She'd  die  for  him." 

"Girls  are  awful  curious — nobody  can  tell  what  they 
mean,"  said  Harry. 

"Sometimes  they  don't  know  what  they  mean  them- 
selves. Often  I  say  something  or  do  something  and 
wonder  and  wonder  what  it  means." 

She  was  looking  off  at  the  distant  plain  as  she  spoke. 

"Sometimes  I'm  surprised  to  find  out  how  much  it 
means,"  she  added.  "I  reckon  every  girl  is  a  kind  of 
a  puzzle  and  some  are  very  easy  and  some  would  give 
ye  the  headache." 

"Or  the  heartache." 

"Did  you  ever  ride  a  horse  sitting  backwards — 
when  you're  going  one  way  and  looking  another  and 
you  don't  know  what's  coming?"  she  asked. 

"What's  behind  you  is  before  you  and  the  faster 
you  go  the  more  danger  you're  in  ?"  Harry  laughed. 

"Isn't  that  the  way  we  have  to  travel  in  this  world, 

whether  we're  going  to  love  or  to  mill?"  the  girl  asked, 

with  a  sigh.     "We  can  not  tell  what  is  ahead.     We  see 

only  what  is  behind  us.    It  is  very  sad." 

Harry  looked  at  Bim.     He  saw  the  tragic  truth  of 


148  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

the  words  and  suddenly  her  face  was  like  them.  Un- 
consciously in  the  midst  of  her  playful  talk  this  thing 
had  fallen.  He  did  not  know  quite  what  to  make  of  it. 

"I  feel  sad  when  I  think  of  Abe/'  said  Harry.  "He 
don't  know  what  is  ahead  of  him,  I  guess.  I  heard 
Mrs.  Traylor  say  that  he  was  in  love  with  Ann." 

"I  reckon  he  is,  but  he  don't  know  how  to  show  it. 
You  might  as  well  ask  me  to  play  on  a  flute.  He's 
'never  told  her.  He  just  walks  beside  her  to  a  party 
and  talks  about  politics  and  poetry  and  tells  funny 
stories.  I  reckon  he's  mighty  good,  but  he  don't  know 
how  to  love  a  girl.  Ann  is  afraid  he'll  step  on  her, 
he's  so  tall  and  awkward  and  wanderin'.  Did  you 
ever  see  an  elephant  talking  with  a  cricket  ?" 

"Not  as  I  remember,"  said  Harry. 

"I  never  did  myself,  but  if  I  did,  I'm  sure  they'd 
both  look  very  tired.  It  would  be  still  harder  for  an 
elephant  to  be  engaged  to  a  cricket.  I  don't  reckon 
the  elephant's  love  would  fit  the  cricket  or  that  they'd 
ever  be  able  to  agree  on  what  they'd  talk  about.  It's 
some  that  way  with  Abe  and  Ann.  She  is  small  and 
spry;  he  is  slow  and  high.  She'd  need  a  ladder  to 
get  up  to  his  face,  and  I  just  tell  you  it  ain't  purty 
when  ye  get  there.  She  ain't  got  a  chance  to  love 
him." 

"I  love  him,"  said  Harry.  "I  think  he's  a  wonder- 
ful man.  I'd  fight  for  him  till  I  died.  John  McNeil 
is  nothing  but  a  grasshopper  compared  to  him." 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  149 

"That's  about  what  my  father  says,"  Bim  answered. 
"I  love  Abe,  too,  and  so  does  Ann,  but  it  ain't  the 
hope  to  die,  marry  in'  love.  It's  like  a  man's  love  for 
a  man  or  a  woman's  love  for  a  woman.  John  McNeil 
is  handsome — he's  just  plum  handsome,  and  smart, 
too.  He's  bought  a  big  farm  and  is  going  into  the 
grocery  business.  Mr.  Rutledge  says  he'll  be  a  rich 
man." 

"I  wouldn't  wonder.  Is  he  going  to  the  spelling 
school?" 

"No,  he  went  off  to  Richland  to-day  with  my  father 
to  join  the  company.  They're  going  to  fight  the 
Injuns,  too." 

Harry  stood  smoothing  the  new  coat  of  Colonel 
with  his  hand,  while  Bim  was  thinking  how  she  would 
best  express  what  was  on  her  mind.  She  did  not  try 
to  say  it,  but  there  was  something  in  the  look  of  her 
eyes  which  the  boy  remembered. 

He  was  near  telling  her  that  he  loved  her,  but  he 
looked  down  at  his  muddy  boots  and  soiled  overalls. 
They  were  like  dirt  thrown  on  a  flame.  How  could 
one  speak  of  a  sweet  and  noble  passion  in  such  attire? 
Clean  clothes  and  white  linen  for  that!  The  shell 
sounded  for  dinner.  Bim  started  for  the  road  at  a 
gallop,  waving  her  hand.  He  unhitched  his  team  and 
followed  it  slowly  across  the  black  furrows  toward 
the  barn. 

He  did  not  go  to  the  spelling  school.     Abe  came 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 


at  seven  and  said  that  he  and  Harry  would  have  to 
walk  to  Springfield  that  night  and  get  their  equipment 
and  take  the  stage  in  the  morning.  Abe  said  if  they 
started  right  away  they  could  get  to  the  Globe  tavern 
by  midnight.  In  the  hurry  and  excitement  Harry  for- 
got the  spelling  school.  To  Bim  it  was  a  tragic  thing. 
Before  he  went  to  bed  that  night  he  wrote  a  letter  to 
her. 


CHAPTER  IX 

IN  WHICH  BIM  KELSO  MAKES  HISTORY,  WHILE  ABE 
AND  HARRY  AND  OTHER  GOOD  CITIZENS  OF  NEW 
SALEM  ARE  MAKING  AN  EFFORT  TO  THAT  END  IN 
THE  INDIAN  WAR. 

MANY  things  came  with  the  full  tide  of  the  spring- 
time— innumerable  flowers  and  voices,  the  flowers 
filled  with  glowing  color,  the  voices  with  music  and 
delight.  Waves  of  song  swept  over  the  limitless 
meadows.  They  went  on  and  on  as  if  they  traveled 
a  shoreless  sea  in  a  steady  wind.  Bob-whites,  meadow- 
larks,  bobolinks,  song  sparrows,  bluebirds,  competed 
with  the  crowing  of  the  meadow  cocks.  This  joyous 
tumult  around  the  Traylor  cabin  sped  the  day  and 
emphasized  the  silence  of  the  night. 

In  the  midst  of  this  springtime  carnival  there  came 
also  cheering  news  from  the  old  home  in  Vermont — 
a  letter  to  Sarah  from  her  brother,  which  contained 
the  welcome  promise  that  he  was  coming  to  visit  them 
and  expected  to  be  in  Beardstown  about  the  fourth  of 
May.  Samson  drove  across  country  to  meet  the 
steamer.  He  was  at  the  landing  when  The  Star  of  the 
North  arrived.  He  saw  every  passenger  that  came 
ashore,  and  Eliphalet  Biggs,  leading  his  big  bay  mare, 


152  rA>  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

was  one  of  them,  but  the  expected  visitor  did  not  ar- 
rive. There  would  be  no  other  steamer  bringing  pas- 
sengers from  the  East  for  a  number  of  days. 

Samson  went  to  a  store  and  bought  a  new  dress  and 
sundry  bits  of  finery  for  Sarah.  He  returned  to  New 
Salem  with  a  heavy  heart.  He  dreaded  to  meet  his 
faithful  partner  and  bring  her  little  but  disappoint- 
ment. The  windows  were  lighted  when  he  got  back, 
long  after  midnight.  Sarah  stood  in  the  open  door 
as  he  drove  up. 

"Didn't  come,"  he  said  mournfully. 

Without  a  word,  Sarah  followed  him  to  the  barn, 
with  the  tin  lantern  in  her  hand.  He  gave  her  a  hug 
as  he  got  down  from  the  wagon.  He  was  little  given 
to  like  displays  of  emotion. 

"Don't  feel  bad,"  he  said. 

She  tried  bravely  to  put  a  good  face  on  her  disap- 
pointment, but,  while  he  was  unharnessing  and  leading 
the  weary  horses  into  their  stalls,  it  was  a  wet  face 
and  a  silent  one. 

"Come,"  he  said,  after  he  had  thrown  some  hay 
into  the  mangers.  "Let's  go  into  the  house.  I've  got 
something  for  ye." 

"I've  given  them  up — I  don't  believe  we  shall  ever 
see  them  again,"  said  Sarah,  as  they  were  walking  to- 
ward the  door.  "I  think  I  know  how  the  dead  feel 
who  are  so  soon  forgotten." 

"Ye    can't   blame    'em,"    said    Samson.     "They've 


A  MAN  FOR  JHE  AGES  153 

probably  heard  about  tKe  Injun  scare  and  would  ex- 
pect to  be  massacreed  if  they  came." 

Indeed  the  scare,  now  abating,  had  spread  through 
the  border  settlements  and  kept  the  people  awake  o' 
nights.  Samson  and  other  men,  left  in  New  Salem, 
had  met  to  consider  plans  for  a  stockade. 

"And  then  there's  the  fever  an'  ague,"  Samson 
added. 

"Sometimes  I  feel  sorry  I  told  'em  about  it  because 
they'll  think  it  worse  than  it  is.  But  we've  got  to  tell 
the  truth  if  it  kills  us." 

"Yes:  we've  got  to  tell  the  truth,"  Samson  re- 
joined. "There'll  be  a  railroad  coming  through  here 
one  of  these  days  and  then  we  can  all  get  back  and 
forth  easy.  If  it  comes  it's  going  to  make  us  rich. 
Abe  says  he  expects  it  within  three  or  four  years." 

Sarah  had  a  hot  supper  ready  for  him.  As  he  stood 
warming  himself  by  the  fire  she  put  her  arms  around 
him  and  gave  him  a  little  hug. 

"You  poor  tired  man !"  she  said.  "How  patient  and 
how  good  you  are !" 

There  was  a  kind  of  apology  for  this  moment  of 
weakness  in  her  look  and  manner.  Her  face  seemed 
to  say :  "It's  silly  but  I  can't  help  it." 

"I've  been  happy  all  the  time  for  I  knew  you  was 
waiting  for  me,"  Samson  remarked.  "I  feel  rich  ev- 
ery time  I  think  of  you  and  the  children.  Say,  look 
here." 


154  'A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

He  untied  the  bundle  and  put  the  dress  and  finery  in 
her  lap. 

"Well,  I  want  to  know !"  she  exclaimed,  as  she  held 
it  up  to  the  candlelight.  "That  must  have  cost  a  pret- 
ty penny." 

"I  don't  care  what  it  cost — it  ain't  half  good  enough 
— not  half,"  said  Samson. 

As  he  sat  down  to  his  supper  he  said : 

"I  saw  that  miserable  slaver,  Biggs,  get  off  the  boat 
with  his  big  bay  mare.  There  was  a  darky  following 
him  with  another  horse." 

"Good  land !"  said  Sarah.  "I  hope  he  isn't  coming 
here.  Mrs.  Onstott  told  me  to-day  that  Bim  Kelso  has 
been  getting  letters  from  him." 

"She's  such  an  odd  little  critter  and  she's  got  a 
mind  of  her  own — anybody  could  see  that,"  Samson 
reflected.  "She  ought  to  be  looked  after  purty  care- 
ful. Her  parents  are  so  taken  up  with  shooting  and 
fishing  and  books  they  kind  o'  forget  the  girl.  I  wish 
you'd  go  down  there  to-morrow  and  see  what's  up. 
Jack  is  away  you  know." 

"I  will,"  said  Sarah. 

It  was  nearly  two  o'clock  when  Samson,  having 
fed  and  watered  his  horses,  got  into  bed.  Yet  he  was 
up  before  daylight,  next  morning,  and  singing  a  hymn 
of  praise  as  he  kindled  the  fire  and  filled  the  tea  ket- 
tle and  lighted  his  candle  lantern  and  went  out  to  do 
his  chores  while  Sarah,  partly  reconciled  to  her  new 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  155 

disappointment,  dressed  and  began  the  work  of  an- 
other day.  So  they  and  Abe  and  Harry  and  others 
like  them,  each  under  the  urge  of  his  own  ambition, 
spent  their  great  strength  in  the  building  and  de- 
fense of  the  republic  and  grew  prematurely  old.  Their 
work  began  and  ended  in  darkness  and  often  their 
days  were  doubled  by  the  burdens  of  the  night.  So 
in  the  reckoning  of  their  time  each  year  was  more 
than  one. 

Sarah  went  down  to  the  village  in  the  afternoon  of 
the  next  day.  When  Samson  came  in  from  the  fields 
to  his  supper  she  said : 

"Mr.  Biggs  is  stopping  at  the  tavern.  He  brought 
a  new  silk  dress  and  some  beautiful  linen  to  Mrs. 
Kelso.  He  tells  her  that  Bim  has  made  a  new  man  of 
him.  Claims  he  has  quit  drinking  and  gone  to  work. 
He  looks  like  a  lord — silver  spurs  and  velvet  riding- 
coat  and  ruffled  shirt  and  silk  waistcoat.  A  colored 
servant  rode  into  the  village  with  him  on  a  beautiful 
brown  horse,  carrying  big  saddle-bags.  Bim  and  her 
mother  are  terribly  excited.  He  wants  them  to  move 
to  St.  Louis  and  live  on  his  big  plantation  in  a  house 
next  to  his — rent  free." 

Samson  knew  that  Biggs  was  the  type  of  man  who 
weds  Virtue  for  her  dowry. 

"A  man's  judgment  is  needed  there,"  said  he.  "It's 
a  pity  Jack  is  gone.  Biggs  will  take  that  girl  away 
with  him  sure  as  shooting  if  we  don't  look  out." 


156  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

"Oh,  I  don't  believe  he'd  do  that,"  said  Sarah.  "I 
hope  he  has  turned  over  a  new  leaf  and  become  a  gen- 
tleman." 

"We'll  see,"  said  Samson. 

They  saw  and  without  much  delay  the  background 
of  his  pretensions,  for  one  day  within  the  week  he  and 
Bim,  the  latter  mounted  on  the  beautiful  brown  horse, 
rode  away  and  did  not  return.  Soon  a  letter  came 
from  Bim  to  her  mother,  mailed  at  Beardstown.  It 
told  of  their  marriage  in  that  place  and  said  that  they 
would  be  starting  for  St.  Louis  in  a  few  hours  on  The 
Star  of  the  North.  She  begged  the  forgiveness  of 
her  parents  and  declared  that  she  was  very  happy. 

"Too  bad!  Isn't  it?"  said  Sarah  when  Mrs.  Waddell, 
who  had  come  out  with  her  husband  one  evening  to 
bring  this  news,  had  finished  the  story. 

"Yes,  it  kind  o'  spyles  the  place,"  said  Samson. 
"Bim  was  a  wonderful  girl — spite  of  all  her  foolish- 
ness— like  the  birds  that  sing  among  the  flowers  on 
the  prairie — kind  o' — yes,  sir — she  was.  I'm  afraid  for 
Jack  Kelso — 'fraid  it'll  bust  his  fiddle  if  it  don't  break 
his  heart.  His  wife  is  alone  now.  We  must  ask  her 
to  come  and  stay  with  us." 

"The  Aliens  have  taken  her  in,"  said  Mrs. 
Waddell. 

"That's  good,"  said  Sarah.  "I'll  go  down  there  to^ 
morrow  and  offer  to  do  anything  we  can." 

When  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Waddell  had  gone  Sarah  said : 


"I  can't  help  thinking  of  poor  Harry.  He  was  ter- 
ribly in  love  with  her." 

"Well,  he'll  have  to  get  over  it — that's  all,"  said 
Samson.  "He's  young  and  the  wound  will  heal." 

It  was  well  for  Harry  that  he  was  out  of  the  way 
of  all  this,  and  entered  upon  adventures  which  ab- 
sorbed his  thought.  As  to  what  was  passing  with  him 
we  have  conclusive  evidence  in  two  letters,  one  from 
Colonel  Zachary  Taylor  in  which  he  says : 

"Harry  Needles  is  also  recommended  for  the  most 
intrepid  conduct  as  a  scout  and  for  securing  informa^ 
tion  of  great  value.  Compelled  to  abandon  his  wound- 
ed horse  he  swam  a  river  under  fire  and  under  the 
observation  of  three  of  our  officers,  through  whose  help 
he  got  back  to  his  command,  bringing  a  bullet  in  his 
thigh.'' 

With  no  knowledge  of  military  service  and  a  com- 
pany of  untrained  men,  Abe  had  no  chance  to  win 
laurels  in  the  campaign.  His  command  did  not  get  in 
touch  with  the  enemy.  He  had  his  hands  full  main- 
taining a  decent  regard  for  discipline  among  the  raw 
frontiersmen  of  his  company. 

He  saved  the  life  of  an  innocent  old  Indian,  with 
a  passport  from  General  Cass,  who  had  fallen  into 
their  hands  and  whom,  in  their  excitement  and  lust 
for  action,  they  desired  to  hang.  This  was  the  only 
incident  of  his  term  of  service  which  gave  him  the 
least  satisfaction. 


158  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

Early  in  the  campaign  Harry  had  been  sent  with  a 
message  to  headquarters,  where  he  won  the  regard  of 
Colonel  Taylor  and  was  ordered  to  the  front  with  a 
company  of  scouts.  No  member  of  the  command  had 
been  so  daring.  He  had  the  recklessness  of  youth 
and  its  wayward  indifferences  to  peril.  William  Boone, 
a  son  of  Daniel,  used  to  speak  of  "the  luck  of  that  dare- 
devil farmer  boy." 

One  day  in  passing  mounted  through  a  thick  woods 
on  the  river,  near  the  enemy,  he  suddenly  discovered 
Indians  all  around  him.  They  sprang  out  of  the 
bushes  ahead  and  one  of  them  opened  fire.  He  turned 
and  spurred  his  horse  and  saw  the  painted  warriors  on 
every  side.  He  rode  through  them  under  a  hot  fire. 
His  horse  fell  wounded  near  the  river  shore  and  Harry 
took  to  the  water  and  swam  beneath  it  as  far  as  he 
could.  When  he  came  up  for  breath  bullets  began 
splashing  and  whizzing  around  him.  It  was  then  that 
he  got  his  wound.  He  dove  and  reached  the  swift 
current  which  greatly  aided  his  efforts.  Some  white 
men  in  a  boat  about  three  hundred  yards  away  wit- 
nessed his  escape  and  said  that  the  bullets  "tore  the 
river  surface  into  rags"  around  him  as  he  came  up. 
Courage  and  his  skill  as  a  diver  and  swimmer  saved 
his  life.  Far  below,  the  boat,  in  which  were  a  num- 
ber of  his  fellow  scouts  overtook  him  and  helped  him 
back  to  camp.  So  it  happened  that  a  boy  won  a  reputa- 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  159 

tion  in  the  "Black  Hawk  War"  which  was  not  lavish 
in  its  bestowal  of  honors. 

When  the  dissatisfied  volunteers  were  mustered  out 
late  in  May,  Kelso  and  McNeil,  being  sick  with  a  stub- 
born fever,  were  declared  unfit  for  sendee  and  sent 
back  to  New  Salem  as  soon  as  they  were  able  to  ride. 
Abe  and  Harry  joined  Captain  lies'  Company  of  In- 
dependent Rangers  and  a  month  or  so  later  Abe,  re- 
enlisted  to  serve  with  Captain  Early,  Harry  being  un- 
der a  surgeon's  care.  The  latter's  wound  was  not 
serious  and  on  July  third  he  too  joined  Early's  com- 
mand. 

This  company  was  chiefly  occupied  in  the  moving 
of  supplies  and  the  burying  of  a  few  men  who  had 
been  killed  in  small  engagements  with  the  enemy.  It 
was  a  band  of  rough-looking  fellows  in  the  costume 
of  the  frontier  farm  and  workshop — ragged,  dirty 
and  unshorn.  The  company  was  disbanded  July  tenth 
at  Whitewater,  Wisconsin,  where,  that  night,  the  horses 
of  Harry  and  Abe  were  stolen.  From  that  point 
they  started  on  their  long  homeward  tramp  with  a 
wounded  sense  of  decency  and  justice.  They  felt  that 
the  Indians  had  been  wronged :  that  the  greed  of  land 
grabbers  had  brutally  violated  their  rights.  This  feel- 
ing had  been  deepened  by  the  massacre  of  the  red 
women  and  children  at  Bad  Ax. 

A  number  of  mounted  men  went  with  them  and 
gave  them  a  ride  now  and  then.  Some  of  the  travel- 


160  'A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

ers  had  little  to  eat  on  the  journey.  Both  Abe  and 
Harry  suffered  from  hunger  and  sore  feet  before 
they  reached  Peoria  where  they  bought  a  canoe  and 
in  the  morning  of  a  bright  day  started  down  the  Illi- 
nois River. 

They  had  a  long  day  of  comfort  in  its  current  with 
a  good  store  of  bread  and  butter  and  cold  meat  and 
pie.  The  prospect  of  being  fifty  miles  nearer  home  be- 
fore nightfall  lightened  their  hearts  and  they  laughed 
freely  while  Abe  told  of  his  adventures  in  the  cam- 
paign. To  him  it  was  all  a  wild  comedy  with  tragic 
scenes  dragged  into  it  and  woefully  out  of  place.  In- 
deed he  thought  it  no  more  like  war  than  a  pig  stick- 
ing and  that  was  the  kind  of  thing  he  hated. 

At  noon  they  put  ashore  and  sat  on  a  grassy  bank 
in  the  shade  of  a  great  oak,  to  escape  the  withering 
sunlight  of  that  day  late  in  July,  while  they  ate  their 
luncheon. 

"I  reckon  that  the  Black  Haw*k  peril  was  largely 
manufactured,"  said  Abe  as  they  sat  in  the  cool  shade. 

"If  they  had  been  let  alone  I  don't  believe  the  In- 
dians would  have  done  any  harm.  It  reminds  me  a 
little  of  the  story  of  a  rich  man  down  in  Lexington 
who  put  a  cast  iron  buck  in  his  dooryard.  Next  morn- 
ing all  the  dogs  in  the  neighborhood  got  together  and 
looked  him  over  from  a  distance.  He  had  invaded 
their  territory  and  they  reckoned  that  he  was  theirs. 
They  saw  a  chance  for  war.  One  o'  their  number  vol- 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  161 

unteered  to  go  and  scare  up  the  buck.  So  he  raised 
the  hair  on  his  back  and  sneaked  up  from  behind  and 
when  he  was  about  forty  feet  away  made  hell  bent 
for  the  buck's  heels.  The  buck  didn't  move  and  the 
dog  nearly  broke  his  neck  on  that  pair  o'  cast  iron 
legs.  He  went  limping  back  to  his  comrades. 

"  'What's  the  trouble  ?'  they  asked. 

"  'It's  nary  buck,'  said  the  dog. 

"'What  is  it  then?' 

"  'Darned  if  I  know.  It  kicks  like  a  mule  an'  smells 
like  a  gate  post.' 

"  'Come  on,  you  fellers.  It  looks  to  me  like  a  good 
time  to  go  home,'  said  a  wise  old  dog.  'I've  learned 
that  ye  can't  always  believe  yerself.' 

"It's  a  good  thing  for  a  man  or  a  government  to 
learn,"  Abe  went  on  as  they  resumed  their  journey. 
"I've  learned  not  to  believe  everything  I  hear.  The 
first  command  I  gave,  one  o'  the  company  hollered 
'Go  to  h — 1.'  Every  one  before  me  laughed.  It  was 
a  chance  to  get  mad.  I  didn't  for  I  knew  what  it 
meant.  I  just  looked  sober  and  said : 

"  'Well,  boys,  I  haven't  far  to  go  and  I  reckon  we'll 
all  get  there  if  we  don't  quit  fooling  an'  'tend  to  busi- 
ness.' 

"They  agreed  with  me." 

Harry  had  not  heard  from  home  since  he  left  it, 
Abe  had  had  a  letter  from  Rutledge  which  gave  him 
the  news  of  Bim's  elopement.  The  letter  had  said: 


1 62  A'  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

"I  was  over  to  Beardstown  the  day  Kelso  and  Mc- 
Neil got  off  the  steamer.  I  brought  them  home  with 
me.  Kelso  was  bigger  than  his  trouble.  Said  that 
the  ways  of  youth  were  a  part  of  the  great  plan. 
'Thorns!  Thorns!'  he  said.  'They  are  the  teachers 
of  wisdom  and  who  am  I  that  I  should  think  myself 
or  my  daughter  too  good  for  the  like  since  it  is  written 
that  Jesus  Christ  did  not  complain  of  them.' ' 

"Have  you  heard  from  home  ?"  Abe  asked  as  they 
paddled  on. 

"Not  a  word,"  said  Harry. 

"You're  not  expecting  to  meet  Bim  Kelso?" 

"That's  the  best  part  of  getting  home  for  me,"  said 
Harry,  turning  with  a  smile. 

"Let  her  drift  for  a  minute,"  said  Abe.  "I've  got 
a  letter  from  James  Rutledge  that  I  want  to  read  to 
you.  There's  a  big  lesson  in  it  for  both  of  us — some- 
thing to  remember  as  long  as  we  live." 

Abe  read  the  letter.  Harry  sat  motionless.  Slowly 
his  head  bent  forward  until  his  chin  touched  his 
breast 

Abe  said  with  a  tender  note  in  his  voice  as  he  folded 
the  letter: 

"This  man  is  well  along  in  life.  He  hasn't  youth  to 
help  him  as  you  have.  See  how  he  takes  it  and  she's 
the  only  child  he  has.  There  are  millions  of  pretty 
girls  in  the  world  for  you  to  choose  from." 

"I  know  it  but  there's  only  one  Bim  Kelso  in  the 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  163 

world,"  Harry  answered  mournfully.  "She  was  the 
one  I  loved." 

"Yes,  but  you'll  find  another.  It  looks  serious  but 
it  isn't — you're  so  young.  Hold  up  your  head  and 
keep  going.  You'll  be  happy  again  soon." 

"Maybe,  but  I  don't  see  how,"  said  the  boy. 

"There  are  lots  of  things  you  can't  see  from  where 
you  are  at  this  present  moment.  There  are  a  good 
many  miles  ahead  o'  you  I  reckon  and  one  thing  you'll 
see  plainly,  by  and  by,  that  it's  all  for  the  best.  I've 
suffered  a  lot  myself  but  I  can  see  now  it  has  been  a 
help  to  me.  There  isn't  an  hour  of  it  I'd  be  willing 
to  give  up." 

They  paddled  along  in  silence  for  a  time. 

"It  was  my  fault,"  said  Harry  presently.  "I  never 
could  say  the  half  I  wanted  to  when  she  was  with  me. 
My  tongue  is  too  slow.  She  gave  me  a  chance  and 
I  wasn't  man  enough  to  take  it.  That's  all  I've  got 
to  say  on  that  subject." 

He  seemed  to  find  it  hard  to  keep  his  word  for  in 
a  moment  he  added : 

"I  wouldn't  have  been  so  good  a  scout  if  it  hadn't 
been  foi  her.  I  guess  the  Injuns  would  have  got  me 
but  when  I  thought  of  her  I  just  kept  going." 

"I  think  you  did  it  just  because  you  were  a  brave 
man  and  had  a  duty  to  perform,"  said  Abe. 

Some  time  afterward  in  a  letter  to  his  father  the 
boy  wrote: 


164  'A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

"I  often  think  of  that  ride  down  the  river  and  the 
way  he  talked  to  me.  It  was  so  gentle.  He  was  a 
big,  powerful  giant  of  a  man  who  weighed  over  two 
hundred  pounds,  all  of  it  bone  and  muscle.  But  un< 
der  his  great  strength  was  a  woman's  gentleness;  un- 
der the  dirty,  ragged  clothes  and  the  rough,  brown 
skin  grimy  with  dust  and  perspiration,  was  one  of 
the  cleanest  souls  that  ever  came  to  this  world.  I 
don't  mean  that  he  was  like  a  minister.  He  could  tell 
a  story  with  pretty  rough  talk  in  it  but  always  for  a 
purpose.  He  hated  dirt  on  the  hands  or  on  the  tongue. 
If  another  man  had  a  trouble  Abe  took  hold  of  it  with 
him.  He  would  put  a  lame  man's  pack  on  top  of  his 
own  and  carry  it.  He  loved  flowers  like  a  woman.  He 
loved  to  look  at  the  stars  at  night  and  the  colors  of 
the  sunset  and  the  morning  dew  on  the  meadows.  I 
never  saw  a  man  so  much  in  love  with  fun  and  beauty." 

They  reached  Havana  that  evening  and  sold  their 
canoe  to  a  man  who  kept  boats  to  rent  on  the  river 
shore.  They  ate  a  hot  supper  at  the  tavern  and  got  a 
ride  with  a  farmer  who  was  going  ten  miles  in  their 
direction.  From  his  cabin  some  two  hours  later  they 
set  out  afoot  in  the  darkness. 

"I  reckon  it  will  be  easier  under  the  stars  than  under 
the  hot  sun,"  said  Abe.  "Our  legs  have  had  a  long 
rest  anyhow." 

They  enjoyed  the  coolness  and  beauty  of  the  summer 
night. 

"Going  home  is  the  end  of  all  journeys,"  said  Abe 
as  they  tramped  along.  "Did  it  ever  occur  to  you  that 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  165 

every  living  creature  has  its  home?  The  fish  of  the 
sea,  the  birds  of  the  air,  the  beasts  of  the  field  and 
forest,  the  creepers  in  the  grass,  all  go  home.  Most 
of  them  turn  toward  it  when  the  day  wanes.  The 
call  of  home  is  the  one  voice  heard  and  respected  all 
the  way  down  the  line  of  life.  And,  ye  know,  the  most 
wonderful  and  mysterious  thing  in  nature  is  the  power 
that  fool  animals  have  to  go  home  through  great  dis- 
tances, like  the  turtle  that  swam  from  the  Bay  of  Bis- 
cay to  his  home  off  Van  Dieman's  Land.  Some- 
how coming  over  in  a  ship  he  had  blazed  a  trail  through 
the  pathless  deep  more  than  ten  thousand  miles  long. 
It's  the  one  miraculous  gift — the  one  call  that's  irre- 
sistible. Don't  you  hear  it  new?  I  never  lie  down 
in  the  darkness  without  thinking  of  home  when  I  am 
away." 

"And  it's  hard  to  change  your  home  when  you're 
wonted  to  it,"  said  Harry. 

"Yes,  it's  a  little  like  dying  when  you  pull  up  the 
roots  and  move.  It's  been  hard  on  your  folks." 

This  remark  brought  them  up  to  the  greatest  of  mys- 
teries. They  tramped  in  silence  for  a  moment.  Abe 
broke  in  upon  it  with  these  words : 

"I  reckon  there  must  be  another  home  somewhere 
to  go  to  after  we  have  broke  the  last  camp  here  and 
a  kind  of  a  bird's  compass  to  help  us  find  it.  I  reckon 
we'll  hear  the  call  of  it  as  we  grow  older." 

He  stopped  and  took  off  'his  hat  and  looked  up  at 
the  stars  and  added : 


166  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

"If  it  isn't  so  I  don't  see  why  the  long  procession 
of  life  keeps  harping  on  this  subject  of  home.  I  think 
I  see  the  point  of  the  whole  thing.  It  isn't  the  place 
or  the  furniture  that  makes  it  home,  but  the  love  and 
peace  that's  in  it.  By  and  by  our  home  isn't  here  any 
more.  It  has  moved.  Our  minds  begin  to  beat  about 
in  the  undiscovered  countries  looking  for  it.  Some- 
how we  get  it  located — each  man  for  himself." 

For  another  space  they  hurried  along  without  speak- 
ing. 

"I  tell  you,  Harry,  whatever  a  large  number  of  in- 
telligent folks  have  agreed  upon  for  some  generations 
is  so — if  they  have  been  allowed  to  do  their  own  think- 
ing," said  Abe.  "It's  about  the  only  wisdom  there  is." 

He  had  sounded  the  keynote  of  the  new  Democracy. 

"There  are  some  who  think  that  Reason  is  the  only 
guide  but  in  the  one  problem  of  going  home  it  don't 
compare  with  the  turtle's  wisdom,"  Abe  added.  "His 
head  isn't  bigger  than  a  small  apple.  But  I  reckon 
the  scientist  can't  teach  him  anything  about  navigation. 
Reminds  me  o'  Steve  Nuckles.  His  head  is  full  of 
ignorance  but  he'll  know  how  to  get  home  \vhen  the 
time  conies." 

"My  stars!  How  we're  hurrying!"  Harry  ex- 
claimed at  length. 

"I  didn't  realize  it — I'm  so  taken  up  with  the 
thought  of  getting  back,"  said  Abe.  "It's  as  if  my 
friends  had  a  rope  around  me  and  were  pulling  it." 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  167 

So  under  the  lights  of  heaven,  speaking  in  the  si- 
lence of  the  night,  of  impenetrable  mysteries,  they 
journeyed  on  toward  the  land  of  plenty. 

"It's  as  still  as  a  graveyard,"  Harry  whispered  when 
they  had  climbed  the  bluff  by  the  mill  long1  after  mid- 
night and  were  near  the  little  village. 

"They're  all  buried  in  sleep,"  said  Abe.  "We'll  get 
Rutledge  out  of  bed.  He'll  give  us  a  shake-down 
somewhere." 

His  loud  rap  on  the  door  of  the  tavern  signalized 
more  than  a  desire  for  rest  in  the  weary  travelers,  for 
just  then  a  cycle  of  their  lives  had  ended. 


BOOK  TWO 

CHAPTER  X 

IN     WHICH     ABE     AND    SAMSON     WRESTLE    AND     SOME 
RAIDERS  COME  TO  BURN  AND  STAY  TO  REPENT. 

WITHIN  a  week  after  their  return  the  election  came 
off  and  Abe  was  defeated,  although  in  his  precinct  two 
hundred  and  twenty-seven  out  of  a  total  of  three  hun- 
dred votes  had  been  cast  for  him.  He  began  to  con- 
sider which  way  to  turn.  He  thought  seriously  of  the 
trade  of  the  blacksmith  which  many  advised.  Burns 
and  Shakespeare,  who  had  been  with  him  in  recent 
vicissitudes  seemed  to  disagree  with  him.  Jack  Kelso, 
who  had  welcomed  the  returning  warriors  in  the 
cheery  fashion  of  old,  vigorously  opposed  his  trying 
"to  force  the  gates  of  fortune  with  the  strong  arm." 
They  were  far  more  likely  to  yield,  he  said,  to  a  well 
trained  intellect  of  which  mighty  sinews  were  a  poor 
tool  but  a  good  setting.  Moreover,  Major  John  T. 
Stuart — a  lawyer  of  Springfield — who  had  been  his 
comrade  in  the  "war"  had  encouraged  him  to  study 
law  and,  further,  had  offered  to  lend  him  books.  So 
he  looked  for  an  occupation  which  would  give  him 
leisure  for  study.  Offut,  his  former  employer,  had 

1 68 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  169 

failed  and  cleared  out.  The  young  giant  regarded 
thoughtfully  the  scanty  opportunities  of  the  village. 
He  could  hurl  his  great  strength  into  the  axhead  and 
make  a  good  living  but  he  had  learned  that  such  a  use 
of  it  gave  him  a  better  appetite  for  sleep  than  study. 

John  McNeil,  who  for  a  short  time  had  shared  his 
military  adventures,  had  become  a  partner  of  Samuel 
Hill  in  a  store  larger  and  better  stocked  than  any  the 
village  had  known.  But  Hill  and  McNeil  had  no 
need  of  a  clerk.  Rowan  Herndon  and  William  Berry — • 
he  of  the  morning-glory  shirt — had  opened  a  general 
store.  Mr.  Herndon  offered  to  sell  his  interest  to  Abe 
and  take  notes  for  his  pay.  It  was  not  a  proposition 
that  promised  anything  but  loss.  The  community  was 
small  and  mere  were  three  other  stores  and  there  was 
no  other  "Bill"  Berry,  who  was  given  to  drink  and 
dreams  as  Abe  knew.  He  was  never  offensive.  Drink 
begat  in  Bill  Berry  a  benevolent  form  of  intemperance. 
It  imparted  to  him  a  feeling  of  pity  for  the  human 
race  and  a  deep  sense  of  obligation  to  it.  In  his  cups 
he  acquired  a  notable  generosity  and  politeness.  In 
the  words  of  Jack  Kelso  he  was  then  "as  placid  as  a 
mill  pond  and  as  full  of  reflection."  He  had  many 
friends  and  no  one  had  questioned  his  honesty. 

Abe  Lincoln  had  not  been  trained  to  weigh  the  con- 
sequences of  a  business  enterprise.  The  store  would 
give  him  leisure  for  study  and  New  Salem  could  offer 
him  nothing  else  save  consuming  toil  with  the  axe  or 


1 70  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

the  saw.  He  could  not  think  of  leaving  the  little  cabin 
village.  There  were  Ann  Rutledge  and  Jack  Kelso  and 
Samson  Traylor  and  Harry  Needles.  Every  ladder 
climber  in  the  village  and  on  the  plain  around  it  was 
his  friend. 

Upon  these  people  who  knew  and  respected  him 
Abe  Lincoln  based  his  hopes.  Among  them  he  had 
found  his  vision  and  failure  had  not  diminished  or 
dimmed  it.  He  would  try  again  for  a  place  in  which 
he  could  serve  them  and  if  he  could  learn  to  serve  San- 
gamon  County  he  could  learn  to  serve  the  state  and, 
possibly,  even  the  Republic.  With  this  thought  and  a 
rather  poor  regard  for  his  own  interest  his  name  fell 
into  bad  company  on  the  sign-board  of  Berry  and  Lin- 
coln. Before  he  took  his  place  in  the  store  he  walked 
to  Springfield  and  borrowed  a  law  book  from  his 
friend  Major  Stuart. 

The  career  of  the  firm  began  on  a  hot  day  late  in 
August  with  Bill  Berry  smoking  his  pipe  in  a  chair 
on  the  little  veranda  of  the  store  and  Abe  Lincoln 
sprawled  in  the  shade  of  a  tree  that  partly  overhung  its 
roof,  reading  a  law  book.  The  latter  was  collarless  and 
without  coat  or  waistcoat.  His  feet  were  in  yarn 
socks  and  heavy  cloth  slippers.  Mr.  Berry  was  looking 
intently  at  nothing.  He  was  also  thinking  of  nothing 
with  a  devotion  worthy  of  the  noblest  cause.  No 
breeze  touched  the  mill  pond  of  his  consciousness.  He 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  i£i 

would  have  said  that  he  "had  his  traps  set  for  an  idea 
and  was  watching  them."  Generally  he  was  watching 
his  traps  with  a  look  of  dreamy  contemplation.  He,  too, 
wore  no  coat  or  waistcoat  His  calico  shirt  was  deco- 
rated with  diminutive  roses  in  pink  ink.  His  ready 
tied  necktie  was  very  red  and  fastened  on  his  collar 
button  with  an  elastic  loop.  A  nugget  of  free  gold 
which,  he  loved  to  explain,  had  come  from  the  Rocky 
Mountains  and  had  ten  dollars'  worth  of  the  root  of 
evil  i'n  it,  adorned  his  shirt-front — dangling  from  a 
pin  bar  on  a  tiny  chain. 

The  face  of  Mr.  Berry  suddenly  assumed  a  look 
of  animation.  A  small,  yellow  dog  which  had  been 
lying1  in  repose  beside  him  rose  and  growled,  his  hair 
rising,  and  with  a  little  cry  of  alarm  and  astonishment 
fled  under  the  store. 

"Here  comes  Steve  Nuckles  on  his  old  mare  with  a 
lion  following  him,"  said  Berry. 

Abe  closed  his  book  and  rose  and  looked  at  tha 
approaching  minister  and  his  big  dog. 

"If  we  ain't  careful  we'll  git  prayed  for  plenty," 
said  Berry. 

"If  the  customers  don't  come  faster  I  reckon  we'll 
need  it,"  said  Abe. 

"Howdy,"  said  the  minister  as  he  stopped  at  the 
hitching  bar,  dismounted  and  tied  his  mare.  "Don't 
be  skeered  o'  this  'ere  dog.  He  were  tied  when  I 


172  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

left  home  but  he  chawed  his  rope  an'  come  a'ter  me. 
I  reckon  if  nobody  feeds  him  he'll  patter  back  to-night.'"' 

"He's  a  whopper!"  said  Abe. 

"He's  the  masteris'  dog  I  ever  did  see,"  said  the  min- 
ister, a  tall,  lank,  brawny,  dark-skinned  man  with  gray 
eyes,  sandy  whiskers  on  the  point  of  his  chin,  and 
clothes  worn  and  faded.  "Any  plug  tobaccer?" 

"A  back  load  of  it,"  said  Berry,  going  into  the 
store  to  wait  on  the  minister. 

When  they  came  out  the  latter  carved  off  a  corner 
of  the  plug  with  his  jack-knife,  put  it  into  his  mouth 
and  sat  down  on  the  door-step. 

"Mr.  Nuckles,  how  did  you  happen  to  become  a 
minister?"  Abe  asked. 

"Well,  sur,  I  done  had  a  dream,"  said  the  Reverend 
Mr.  Nuckles,  as  he  clasped  his  hands  over  a  knee  and 
chewed  vigorously.  "I  done  dreamt  that  I  had  swall- 
ered  a  double  wagon  and  that  the  tongue  o'  the  wagon 
were  stickin'  out  o'  my  mouth.  It  were  a  cur'ous  dream 
an'  I  cain't  tell  what  you'd  make  of  it,  but  I  done  tuk 
it  for  a  sign  that  my  tongue  were  to  be  used  on  the 
gospel." 

"It  shows  that  a  man  who  can  swaller  a  wagon  can 
swaller  anything,"  said  Abe.  "But  I'm  glad  you  took 
it  for  a  sign.  You've  done  a  lot  of  good  in  this  coun- 
try. I've  seen  you  out  in  all  weather  and  you've  made 
over  many  a  man  and  broke  and  bitted  some  of  the 
wildest  colts  on  the  prairie." 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  173 

"I  jes'  keep  watch  an'  when  ol'  Satan  comes  snoopin' 
eround  I'm  right  thar  to  ketch  holt  an'  flop  him.  It 
done  come  to  pass  frequent  I've  laid  it  on  till  he  were 
jest  a  hollerin'  fer  mercy.  Where  do  Samson  Tray  lot1 
live?" 

Abe  took  him  to  the  road  and  pointed  the  way. 

"There  be  goin'  to  be  a  raid,"  said  Nuckles.  "I  reck- 
on, by  all  I've  heard,  it'll  come  on  to-night." 

"A  raid !  Who's  going  to  be  raided  ?"  Abe  asked. 

"Them  Traylor  folks.  A  lady  done  tol'  me  yester- 
day. Soon  as  ever  I  got  her  soul  saved  she  blabbed  it. 
Thar  be  a  St.  Louis  man  name  o'  Biggs,  done  stirred 
up  the  folks  from  Missourey  and  Tennessee  on  the 
south  road  'bout  the  Yankee  who  holps  the  niggers  out 
o'  bondage.  Them  folks'd  have  slavery  in  this  here 
county  if  they  could.  They  be  right  hot  I  reckon.  A 
stranger  done  been  goin'  eround  with  whisky  in  his 
bags  startin'  a  band  o'  regulators.  Held  a  meetin'  las' 
Sunday.  They  be  goin'  to  do  some  regulatin'  to-night. 
Ol'  Satan'll  break  loose.  Ef  you  don't  wa'ch  out 
they'll  come  over  an'  burn  his  house  sartin." 

"We'll  watch  out,"  said  Abe.  "They  don't 
know  Traylor.  He's  one  of  the  best  men  in  this 
county." 

"I've  heered  he  were  a  he  man  an'  a  right  powerful, 
God-fearin'  man,"  said  the  minister. 

"He's  one  of  the  best  men  that  ever  came  to  this 
country  and  any  one  that  wants  to  try  his  strength 


174  fA  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

is  welcome  to;  I  don't,"  said  Abe.  "Are  you  going 
over  there?" 

"I  were  goin'  to  warn  'em  an'  holp  'em  ef  I  cain." 

"Well,  go  on,  but  don't  stir  'em  up,"  Abe  cautioned 
him.  "Don't  say  a  word  about  the  raid.  I'll  be  over 
there  with  some  other  fellers  soon  after  sundown. 
We'll  just  tell  'em  it's  a  he  party  come  over  for  a  story- 
tellin'  an'  a  rassle.  I  reckon  we'll  have  some  fun. 
Ride  on  over  and  take  supper  with  'em.  They're  worth 
knowing." 

In  a  few  minutes  the  minister  mounted  his  horse 
and  rode  away  followed  by  his  big  dog. 

"If  I  was  you  I  wouldn't  go,"  said  Berry. 

"Why  not?" 

"It'll  hurt  trade.  Let  the  rest  of  Traylor's  friends 
go  over.  There's  enough  of  'em." 

"We  must  all  stand  as  one  man  for  law  and  order," 
said  Abe.  "If  we  don't  there  won't  be  any." 

As  soon  as  Abe  had  had  his  supper  he  went  from 
house  to  house  and  asked  the  men  to  come  to  his  store 
for  a  piece  of  important  business.  When  they  had 
come  he  told  them  what  was  in  the  wind.  Soon  after 
that  hour  Abe  and  Philemon  Morris,  and  Alexander 
Ferguson,  and  Martin  Waddell  and  Robert  Johnson 
and  Joshua  Miller  and  Jack  Kelsp  and  Samuel  Hill 
and  John  McNeil  set  out  for  the  Traylor  cabin.  Doc- 
tors Allen  and  Regnier  and  James  Rutledge  and  John 
Cameron  and  Isaac  Gollaher,  being  older  men,  were  re- 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  175 

quested  to  remain  in  the  village  and  to  use  their  guns, 
if  necessary,  to  prevent  a  demonstration  there.  Sam- 
son greeted  the  party  with  a  look  of  surprise. 

"Have  you  come  out  to  hang  me?"  he  asked. 

"No  just  to  hang  around  ye,"  said  Abe. 

"This  time  it's  a  heart  warmin',"  Jack  Kelso 
averred.  "We  left  our  wives  at  home  so  that  we  could 
pay  our  compliments  to  Mrs.  Traylor  without  reserve 
knowing  you  to  be  a  man  above  jealousy." 

"It's  what  we  call  a  he  party  on  the  prairies,"  said 
Ferguson.  "For  one  thing  I  wanted  to  see  Abe  and 
the  minister  have  a  rassle." 

The  Reverend  Stephen  Nuckles  stood  in  front  of  the 
door  with  Sarah  and  Harry  and  the  children.  He 
was  a  famous  wrestler.  Forthwith  he  playfully  jumped 
into  the  air  clapping  his  heels  together  three  times  be- 
fore he  touched  the  ground. 

"I  cain't  rassle  like  I  used  to  could  but  I  be  willin' 
to  give  ye  a  try,  Abe,"  said  the  minister. 

"You'd  better  save  your  strength  for  ol*  Satan," 
said  Abe. 

"Go  on,  Abe,"  the  others  urged.    "Give  him  a  try." 

Abe  modestly  stepped  forward.  In  the  last  year 
he  had  grown  less  inclined  to  that  kind  of  fun.  The 
men  took  hold  of  each  other,  collar  and  elbow.  They 
parried  with  their  feet  for  an  instant.  Suddenly  Abe's 
long  right  leg  caught  itself  behind  the  left  knee  of 
the  minister.  It  was  the  hip  lock  as  they  called  it  those 


1 76  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

days.  Once  secured  the  stronger  man  was  almost  sure 
to  prevail  and  quickly.  The  sturdy  circuit  rider  stood 
against  it  for  a  second  until  Abe  sprang  his  bow. 
Then  the  heels  of  the  former  flew  upward  and  his  body 
came  down  to  the  grass,  back  first. 

"That  ar  done  popped  my  wind  bag,"  said  the  min- 
ister as  he  got  up. 

"Call  in,"  said  John  McNeil  and  the  others  echoed 
it. 

"I  call  you,"  said  the  minister  turning  to  McNeil. 

"McNeil !"  the  onlookers  called. 

The  stalwart  young  Irishman  stepped  forward  and 
said: 

"I  don't  mind  measuring  my  length  on  the  grass." 

This  he  did  in  less  than  half  a  moment.  As  the 
young  man  rose  from  the  grass  he  said : 

"I  call  in  Samson  Trayloi." 

At  last  the  thing  which  had  long  been  a  subject  of 
talk  and  argument  in  the  stores  and  houses  of  New 
Salem  was  about  to  come  to  pass — a  trial  of  strength 
and  agility  between  the  two  great  lions  of  Sangamon 
County.  Either  of  them  would  have  given  a  month's 
work  to  avoid  it. 

"I  reckon  we  better  begin  our  story-telhn  ,  said 
Abe. 

"I  think  so  too,"  Samson  declared.  "It's  purty  dusk 
now." 

"A  rassle — a  rassle,"  their  neighbors  shouted. 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  177 

"I'd  rather  give  ten  bushel  o'  wheat  than  miss 
seein'  you  fellers  take  hold  o'  each  other,"  said  Alex- 
ander Ferguson. 

"I  would  too,"  said  Martin  Waddell. 

So  it  happened  that  these  friendly  giants,  each 
dreading  the  ordeal,  faced  each  other  for  a  contest. 

"Now  we  shall  see  which  is  the  son  of  Peleus  and 
which  the  son  of  Telemon,"  Kelso  shouted. 

"How  shall  we  rassle?"  Samson  asked. 

"I  don't  care,"  said  Abe. 

"Rough  and  tumble,"  Ferguson  proposed. 

Both  men  agreed.  They  bent  low  intently  watching1 
each  other,  their  great  hands  outreaching.  They  stood 
braced  for  a  second  and  suddenly  both  sprang  for- 
ward. Their  shoulders  came  together  with  a  thud. 
It  was  like  two  big  bison  bulls  hurling  their  weight 
in  the  first  shock  of  battle.  For  a  breath  each  bort 
with  all  his  strength  and  then  closed  with  his  ad- 
versary. Each  had  an  under  hold  with  one  arm,  the 
other  hooked  around  a  shoulder.  Samson  lifted  Abe 
from  his  feet  but  the  latter  with  tremendous  efforts 
loosened  the  hold  of  the  Vermonter,  and  <~egained  the 
turf.  They  struggled  across  the  dooryard,  the  ground 
trembling  beneath  their  feet.  They  went  against  the 
side  of  the  house  shaking  it  with  the  force  of  their  im- 
pact. Samson  had  broken  the  grip  of  one  of  Abe's 
hands  and  now  had  his  feet  in  the  air  again  but  the 
young  giant  clung  to  hip  and  shoulder  and  wriggled 


178  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

back  to  his  foothold.  Those  lesser  men  were  thrilled 
and  a  little  frightened  by  the  mighty  struggle.  Know- 
ing the  strength  of  the  wrestlers  they  felt  a  fear  of 
broken  bones.  Each  had  torn  a  rent  in  the  coat  of 
the  other.  If  they  kept  on  there  was  danger  that  both 
would  be  stripped.  The  children  had  begun  to  cry. 
Sarah  begged  the  struggling  men  to  stop  and  they 
obeyed  her. 

"If  any  of  you  fellers  think  that's  fun  you  can  have 
my  place,"  said  Abe.  "Samson,  I  declare  you  elected 
the  strongest  man  in  this  county.  You've  got  the 
muscle  of  a  grizzly  bear.  I'm  glad  to  be  quit  o'  ye.'' 

"It  ain't  a  fair  election,  Abe,"  Samson  laughed.  "If 
you  were  rassling  for  the  right  you  could  flop  me. 
This  little  brush  was  nothing.  Your  heart  wasn't  in 
it,  and  by  thunder,  Abe!  when  it  comes  to  havin'  fun 
I  rather  guess  we'd  both  do  better  to  let  each  other 
alone." 

"  'Tain't  exactly  good  amusement,  not  for  us,"  Abe 
agreed. 

It  was  growing  dark.  Ann  Rutledge  arrived  on  her 
pony,  and  called  Abe  aside  and  told  him  that  the  raid- 
ers were  in  the  village  and  were  breaking  the  windows 
of  Radford's  store  because  he  had  refused  to  sell  them 
liquor. 

"Have  they  any  guns  with  them?"  Abe  asked. 

"No,"  Ann  answered. 

"Don't  say  anything  about  it,"  Abe  cautioned  her. 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  179 

go  into  the  house  with  Sarah  Traylor  and  sit 
down  and  have  a  good  visit.  We'll  look  after  the  raid- 
ers." 

Then  Abe  told  Samson  what  was  up.  The  men  con- 
cealed themselves  in  some  bushes  by  the  roadside  while 
the  minister  sat  close  against  an  end  of  the  house  with 
his  blood  hound  beside  him.  Before  they  were  settled 
in  their  places  they  heard  the  regulators  coming.  The 
horses  of  the  latter  were  walking  as  they  approached. 
Not  a  sound  came  from  the  men  who  rode  them.  They 
proceeded  to  the  grove  just  beyond  the  cabin  and 
hitched  their  horses.  There  were  eight  men  in  the 
party  according  to  Abe's  count  as  they  passed.  The 
men,  in  concealment,  hurried  to  the  cabin  and  sur- 
rounded it,  crouched  against  the  walls.  In  a  moment 
they  could  see  a  big  spot,  blacker  than  the  darkness, 
moving  toward  them.  It  was  the  massed  raiders. 
They  came  on  with  the  stealth  of  a  cat  nearing  its 
prey.  A  lion-like  roar  broke  the  silence.  The  blood 
hound  leaped  forward.  The  waiting  men  sprang  to 
their  feet  and  charged.  The  raiders  turned  and  ran, 
pell  mell,  in  a  panic  toward  their  horses.  Suddenly  the 
darkness  seemed  to  fill  with  moving  figures.  One  of 
the  fleeing  men,  whose  coat  tails  the  dog  had  seized, 
was  yelling  for  help.  The  minister  rescued  him  and 
the  dog  went  on  roaring  after  the  others.  When  the 
New  Salemites  got  to  the  edge  of  the  grove  they  could 
hear  a  number  of  regulators  climbing  into  the  tree- 


i8o  A>  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

tops.  Samson  had  a  man  in  each  hand;  Abe  had  an- 
other, while  Harry  Needles  and  Alexander  Ferguson 
were  in  possession  of  the  man  whom  the  dog  had  cap- 
tured. The  minister  was  out  in  the  grove  with  his 
blood  hound  that  was  barking  and  growling  under  a 
tree.  Jack  Kelso  arrived  with  a  lantern.  One  of  Sam- 
son's captives  began  swearing  and  struggling  to  get 
away.  Samson  gave  him  a  little  shake  and  bade  him, 
be  quiet  The  man  uttered  a  cry  of  fear  and  pain 
and  offered  no  more  resistance.  Stephen  Nuckles  came 
out  of  the  grove. 

"The  rest  o'  that  ar  party  done  gone  up-stairs  to 
roost,"  said  the  minister.  "I  reckon  my  dog'll  keep 
'em  thar.  We  better  jest  tote  these  men  inter  the 
house  an'  have  a  prayin'  bee.  I've  got  a  right  smart 
good  chanct,  now,  to  whop  ol'  Satan." 

They  moved  the  raiders'  horses.  Then  the  party — • 
save  Harry  Needles,  who  stayed  in  the  grove  to  keep 
watch — took  its  captives  into  the  cabin. 

"You  set  here  with  this  gun  and  if  any  o'  them  tries 
to  get  away  you  take  a  crack  at  him,"  said  Samson, 
as  they  were  leaving,  in  a  voice  intended  for  the  men 
in  the  tree-tops. 

The  men  and  the  four  dejected  raiders  crowded 
into  the  cabin. 

Sarah,  who  had  heard  the  disturbance  and  won- 
dered what  it  meant,  met  them  at  the  door  with  a 
look  of  alarm. 

"These  men  came  to  do  us  harm,"  Samson  said  to 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  181 

Sarah.  "They  are  good  fellows  but  they  got  an  idea 
in  their  heads  that  we  are  bad  folks.  I  hear  that  young 
Mr.  Biggs  set  them  up  against  us.  Let's  give  them  a 
bite  to  eat  the  first  thing  we  do." 

They  took  a  look  at  the  captives.  Three  of  them 
were  boys  from  eighteen  to  twenty  years  of  age.  The 
other  was  a  lanky,  bearded  Tennessean  some  forty 
years  old.  One  of  the  young  lads  had  hurt  his  hand 
in  the  evening's  frolic.  Blood  was  dripping  from  it. 
The  four  sat  silent  and  fearful  and  ashamed. 

Sarah  made  tea  and  put  it  with  meat  and  milk  and 
doughnuts  and  bread  and  butter  on  the  table  for  them. 
Samson  washed  and  bandaged  the  boy's  wound.  The 
captives  ate  as  if  they  were  hungry  while  the  minister 
went  out  to  feed  his  dog.  When  the  men  had  finished 
eating  Samson  offered  them  tobacco.  The  oldest  man 
filled  his  pipe  and  lighted  it  with  a  coal.  Not  one  of 
the  captives  had  said  a  word  until  this  tall  Tennessean 
remarked  after  his  pipe  was  going: 

"Thankee,  mister.  You  done  been  right  good  to  us." 

"Who  told  you  to  come  here?"  Samson  demanded. 

'  'Twere  a  man  from  St.  Louis.    He  done  said  you 

hated  the  South  an'  were  holpin'  niggers  to  run  away." 

"And  he  offered  to  pay  you  to  come  here  and  burn 
this  house  and  run  Traylor  out  of  the  county,  didn't 
he  ?"  Abe  asked. 

"He  did — yes,  suh — he  suah  did,"  answered  the  man 
— like  a  child  in  his  ignorance  and  simplicity. 

"I  thought  so,"  Abe  rejoined.     "You  tackled  a  big 


182  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

job,  my  friend.  Did  you  know  that  every  one  of 
you  could  be  sent  to  prison  for  a  term  of  years  and 
I've  a  good  mind  to  see  that  you  go  there.  You  men 
have  got  to  begin  right  now  to  behave  yourselves 
mighty  proper  or  you'll  begin  to  sup  sorrow." 

Stephen  Nuckles  returned  as  Abe  was  speaking. 

"You  jest  leave  'em  to  me,  Mr.  Lincoln,"  he  said. 
"These  be  good  men  but  oT  Satan  done  got  his  hooks 
on  'em.  Mis'  Tray  lor,  ef  you  don't  mind  I  be  goin' 
to  do  a  job  o'  prayin'  right  now.  Men,  you  jest  git 
down  on  yo'  knees  right  hyar  along  o'  me." 

The  men  and  the  minister  knelt  on  the  puncheon 
floor  while  the  latter  prayed  long  and  loudly  for  the 
saving  of  their  souls.  Every  one  who  heard  it  felt 
the  simple,  moving  eloquence  of  the  prayer.  Kelso 
said  that  Christ's  love  of  men  was  in  it.  When  the 
prayer  was  ended  the  minister  asked  permission  to  go 
with  the  raiders  to  the  barn  and  spend  the  night  with 
them.  Of  this  curious  event  Samson  wrote  in  his 
diary : 

"Of  what  was  done  in  the  barn  I  have  no  knowl- 
edge but  when  Nuckles  came  back  to  the  house  with 
them  in  the  morning  the  minister  said  that  they  had 
come  into  the  fold  and  that  he  would  promise  for  them 
that  they  would  be  good  citizens  in  the  future.  They 
got  their  breakfast,  fed  and  watered  their  horses  and 
rode  away.  We  found  five  men  up  in  the  tree-tops 
and  the  dog  on  watch.  The  minister  went  out  and 
preached  to  them  -for  about  half  an  hour  and  then 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  183 

prayed  for  their  souls.  When  that  was  over  he 
said: 

"  'Now,  boys,  be  you  ready  to  accept  Christ  and  a 
good  breakfast?  If  not  you'll  have  to  git  a  new  grip 
on  yer  pews  an'  set  right  thar  while  I  preach  another 
sermon.  Thar  ain't  nary  one  of  us  goin'  to  break  our 
fast  till  you're  willin'  to  be  saved/ 

"They  caved  in. 

"  'I  couldn't  stan'  another  sermon  no  how,'  said 
one  in  a  sorrowful  voice.  'I  feel  like  a  wownded  bird. 
Send  up  a  charge  o'  buck  shot  if  you  keer  to,  but  don't 
preach  no  more  sermons  to  me.  It's  jest  a  waste  o' 
breath.  I  reckon  we're  all  on  the  monah's  bench.' 

"When  they  had  come  down  out  of  the  tree-tops  not 
one  of  them  could  stand  on  his  legs  for  a  little  while.'" 

The  gentleman  of  the  sorrowful  voice  and  the  brok- 
en spirit  said : 

"  Tears  like  I'll  have  to  be  tuk  down  an'  put  together 
again." 

They  were  meek  and  sore  when  they  limped  to  the 
cabin  and  washed  on  the  stand  by  the  doorside  and 
went  in  to  breakfast.  After  they  had  eaten  the  min- 
ister prayed  some  more  and  rode  away  with  them. 

It  is  recorded  later  in  the  diary  that  the  rude  Shep- 
herd of  the  prairies  worked  with  these  men  on  their 
farms  for  weeks  until  he  had  them  wonted  to  the  fold. 


CHAPTER  XI 

IN  WHICH  ABE,  ELECTED  TO  THE  LEGISLATURE, 
GIVES  WHAT  COMFORT  HE  CAN  TO  ANN  RUTLEDGE 
IN  THE  BEGINNING  OF  HER  SORROWS.  ALSO  HE 
GOES  TO  SPRINGFIELD  FOR  NEW  CLOTHES  AND  IS 
ASTONISHED  BY  ITS  POMP  AND  THE  CHANGE  IN  ELI. 

RADFORD'S  grocery  had  been  so  wrecked  by  the  raid- 
ers that  its  owner  was  disheartened.  Reenforced  by 
John  Cameron  and  James  Rutledge  he  had  succeeded 
in  drawing  them  away  before  they  could  steal  whisky 
enough  to  get  drunk.  But  they  had  thrown  many  of 
his  goods  into  the  street.  Radford  mended  his  win- 
dows and  offered  his  stock  for  sale.  After  a  time 
Berry  and  Lincoln  bought  it,  giving  notes  in  payment, 
and  applied  for  a  license  to  sell  the  liquors  they  had 
thus  acquired. 

The  Traylors  had  harvested  a  handsome  crop  of 
corn  and  oats  and  wheat  only  to  find  that  its  value 
would  be  mostly  consumed  by  threshing  and  trans- 
portation to  a  market.  Samson  was  rather  discour- 
aged. 

"It's  the  land  of  plenty  but  it's  an  awful  ways  from 
the  land  of  money,"  he  said.  "We've  got  to  hurry  up 
and  get  Abe  into  the  Legislature  or  this  community 

184 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  185 

can't  last.  We've  got  to  have  some  way  to  move 
things." 

None  of  their  friends  had  come  out  to  them  and 
only  one  letter  from  home  had  reached  the  cabin 
since  April. 

Late  that  autumn  a  boy  baby  arrived  in  their  home. 
Mrs.  Onstott,  Mrs.  Waddell  and  Mrs.  Kelso  came  to 
help  and  one  or  the  other  of  them  did  the  nursing  and 
cooking  while  Sarah  was  in  bed  and  for  a  little  time 
thereafter.  The  coming  of  the  baby  was  a  comfort 
to  this  lonely  mother  of  the  prairies.  Joe  and  Betsey 
asked  their  father  in  whispers  while  Sarah  was  lying 
sick  where  the  baby  had  come  from. 

"I  don't  know,"  he  answered. 

"Don't  you  know  ?"  Joe  asked  with  a  look  of  wonder. 

"No,  sir,  I  don't — that's  honest,"  said  Samson. 
"But  there's  some  that  say  they  come  on  the  back  of  a 
big  crane  and  at  the  right  home  the  ol'  crane  lights  an' 
pecks  on  the  door  and  dumps  'em  off,  just  as  gentle  as 
he  can." 

Joe  examined  the  door  carefully  to  find  where  the 
crane  had  pecked  on  it. 

That  day  he  confided  to  Betsey  that  in  his  opinion 
the  baby  didn't  amount  to  much. 

"Why?"  Betsey  asked. 

"Can't  talk  or  play  with  any  one  or  do  anything  but 
just  make  a  noise  like  a  squirrel.  Nobody  can  do 
anything  but  whisper  an'  go  'round  on  his  tiptoes." 


186  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

"He's  our  little  brother  and  we  must  love  him,"  said 
Betsey. 

"Yes;  we've  got  to  love  him,"  said  Joe.  "But  it's 
worse  'n  pickin'  up  potatoes.  I  wisht  he'd  gone  to  some 
other  house." 

That  day  Sarah  awoke  from  a  bad  dream  with  tears 
flowing  down  her  cheeks.  She  found  the  little  lad 
standing  by  her  pillow  looking  very  troubled.  He 
kissed  her  and  whispered: 

"God  help  us  all  and  make  His  face  to  shine  upon 
us." 

There  is  a  letter  from  Sarah  to  her  brother  dated 
May,  10,  1833,  in  which  she  sums  up  the  effect  of  all 
this  and  some  months  of  history  in  the  words  that 
follow : 

"The  Lord  has  given  us  a  new  son.  I  have  lived 
through  the  ordeal — thanks  to  His  goodness — and  am 
strong  again.  The  coming  of  the  baby  has  reconciled 
us  to  the  loss  of  our  old  friends  as  much  as  anything 
could.  It  has  made  this  little  home  dear  to  us  and 
proved  the  quality  of  our  new  friends.  Nothing  is 
too  much  for  them  to  do.  I  don't  wonder  that  Abe 
Lincoln  has  so  much  confidence  in  the  people  of  this 
country.  They  are  sound  at  heart  both  the  northern- 
ers and  the  southerners  'though  some  of  the  latter 
that  we  see  here  are  awfully  ignorant  and  prejudiced. 
We  have  had  wonderful  fun  with  the  children  since 
the  baby  was  born.  It  has  been  like  a  play  or  a  story 
book  to  hear  the  talk  of  Joe  and  Betsey.  She  loves 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  187 

to  play  mother  to  this  wonderful  new  doll  and  is  quite 
a  help  to  me.  Harry  Needles  is  getting  over  his  dis- 
appointment. He  goes  down  to  the  store  often  to 
sit  with  Abe  and  Jack  Kelso  and  hear  them  talk.  He 
and  Samson  are  getting  deeply  interested  in  politics. 
Abe  lets  Harry  read  the  books  that  he  borrows  from 
Major  Stuart  of  Springfield.  The  boy  is  bent  on  be- 
ing a  lawyer  and  improving  his  mind.  Samson  found 
him  the  other  day  making  a  speech  to  the  horses  and 
to  poor  Sambo  out  in  the  barn.  Bim  Kelso  writes  to 
her  mother  that  she  is  very  happy  in  her  new  home 
but  there  is  something  between  the  lines  which  seems 
to  indicate  that  she  is  trying  to  put  a  good  face  on  a 
bad  matter.  What  a  peril  it  is  to  be  young  and  pretty 
and  a  girl !  Berry  and  Lincoln  have  got  a  license  and 
are  selling  liquor  in  their  store  but  nobody  thinks 
anything  of  that  here.  Abe  has  been  appointed  Post- 
master. Everytime  he  leaves  the  store  he  takes  the 
letters  in  his  hat  and  delivers  them  as  he  gets  a  chance. 
We  have  named  tht  new  baby  Samuel." 

The  firm  of  Lincoln  and  Berry  had  not  prospered. 
After  they  had  got  their  license  things  went  from  bad 
to  worse  with  them.  Mr.  Berry,  who  handled  the 
liquors,  kept  himself  in  a  genial  stage  of  inebriation 
and  sat  in  smiles  and  loud  calico  talking  of  gold  mines 
and  hidden  treasure.  Jack  Kelso  said  that  a  little  whis- 
ky converted  Berry's  optimism  into  opulence. 

"It  is  the  opulence  that  tends  to  poverty,"  Abe  an- 
swered. "Berry  gets  so  rich,  at  times,  that  he  will 
have  nothing  to  do  with  the  vulgar  details  of  trade." 


1 88  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

"And  he  exhibits  such  a  touching  sympathy  for  the 
poor,"  said  Kelso,  "you  can't  help  loving  him.  I  have 
never  beheld  such  easy  and  admirable  grandeur." 

The  addition  of  liquors  to  its  stock  had  attracted 
some  rather  tough  characters  to  the  store.  One  of 
them  who  had  driven  some  women  out  of  it  with  pro- 
fanity was  collared  by  Abe  and  conducted  out  of  the 
door  and  thrown  upon  the  grass  where  his  face  was 
rubbed  with  smart  weed  until  he  yelled  for  mercy. 
After  that  the  rough  type  of  drinking  man  chose 
his  words  with  some  care  in  the  store  of  Berry  and 
Lincoln. 

One  evening,  of  that  summer,  Abe  came  out  to  the 
Traylors'  with  a  letter  in  his  hat  for  Sarah. 

"How's  business?"  Samson  asked. 

"Going  to  peter  out  I  reckon,"  Abe  answered  with 
a  sorrowful  look.  "It  will  leave  me  badly  in  debt.  I 
wanted  something  that  would  give  me  a  chance  for 
study  and  I  got  it.  By  jing!  It  looks  as  if  I  was  go- 
ing to  have  years  of  study  trying  to  get  over  it.  I've 
gone  and  jumped  into  a  mill  pond  to  get  out  of  the  rain. 
I'd  better  have  gone  to  Harvard  College  and  walked 
all  the  way.  Have  you  got  any  wrork  to  give  me  ?  You 
know  I  can  split  rails  about  as  fast  as  the  next  man 
and  I'll  take  my  pay  in  wheat  or  corn." 

"You  may  give  me  all  the  time  you  can  spend  out- 
side the  store,"  said  Samson. 

That   evening  they  had  a  talk  about  the  whisky 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  189 

business  and  its  relation  to  the  character  of  Eliphalet 
Biggs  and  to  sundry  infractions  of  law  and  order  in 
their  community.  Samson  had  declared  that  it  was 
wrong  to  sell  liquor. 

"All  that  kind  of  thing  can  be  safely  left  to  the 
common  sense  of  our  people,"  said  Abe.  "The  remedy 
is  education,  not  revolution.  Slowly  the  people  will 
have  to  set  down  all  the  items  in  the  ledger  of  com- 
mon sense  that  passes  from  si're  to  son.  By  and 
by  some  generation  will  strike  a  balance.  That  may 
not  come  in  a  hundred  years.  Soon  or  late  the  ma- 
jority of  the  people  will  reach  a  reckoning  with  John 
Barleycorn.  If  there's  too  much  against  him  they  will 
act.  You  might  as  well  try  to  stop  a  glacier  by  build- 
ing a  dam  in  front  of  it.  They  have  opened  an  ac- 
count with  Slavery  too.  By  and  by  they'll  decide  its 
fate." 

Such  was  his  faith  in  the  common  folk  of  America 
whose  way  of  learning  and  whose  love  of  the  right 
he  knew  as  no  man  has  known  it. 

In  this  connection  the  New  Englander  wrote  in  his 
diary : 

"He  has  spent  his  boyhood  in  the  South  and  his 
young  manhood  in  the  North.  He  has  studied  the  East 
and  lived  in  the  West.  He  i's  the  people — I  sometimes 
think — and  about  as  slow  to  make  up  his  mind.  As 
Isaiah  says :  'He  does  not  judge  after  the  sight  of  his 
eyes  neither  reprove  after  the  hearing  of  his  ears.' 
Abe  has  to  think  about  it." 


190  'A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

Many  days  thereafter  Abe  and  Harry  and  Samson 
were  out  in  the  woods  together  splitting  rails  and 
making  firewood.  Abe  always  took  his  book  with  him 
and  read  aloud  to  Harry  and  Samson  in  the  noon-hour. 
He  liked  to  read  aloud  and  thought  that  he  remem- 
bered better  what  he  had  read  with  both  eye  and  ear 
taking  it  in. 

One  day  while  they  were  at  work  Pollard  Simmons 
came  out  to  them  and  said  that  John  Calhoun  the 
County  Surveyor  wanted  Abe  to  be  his  assistant. 

"I  don't  know  how  to  survey,"  said  Abe. 

"But  I  reckon  you  can  learn  it,"  Simmons  answered. 
"You're  purty  quick  to  learn." 

Abe  thought  a  moment.    Calhoun  was  a  Democrat. 

"Would  I  have  to  sacrifice  any  of  my  principles?" 
he  asked. 

"Nary  a  one,"  said  Simmons. 

"Then  I'll  try  and  see  if  I  can  get  the  hang  of  it," 
Abe  declared.  "I  reckon  Menton  Graham  could  help 
me." 

"Three  dollars  a  day  is  not  to  be  sneezed  at,"  said 
Simmons. 

"No,  sir — not  if  you  can  get  it  honest,"  Abe  an- 
swered. "I'm  not  so  careless  with  my  sneezing  as 
some  men.  Once  when  Eb  Zane  was  out  on  the  Ohio 
in  a  row-boat  Mike  Fink  the  river  pirate  got  after  him. 
Eb  had  a  ten  dollar  gold  piece  in  his  pocket.  For  fear 
that  he  would  be  captured  he  clapped  it  into  his  mouth. 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  191 

Eb  was  a  good  oarsman  and  got  away.  He  was  no 
sooner  out  of  danger  than  he  fetched  a  sneeze  and 
blew  the  gold  piece  into  the  river.  After  that  he  used 
to  say  that  he  had  sneezed  himself  poor  and  that  if  he 
had  a  million  dollars  it  wouldn't  bother  him  to  sneeze 
'em  away.  Sneezing  is  a  form  of  dissipation  which  has 
not  cost  me  a  cent  so  far  and  I  don't  intend  to  yield  to 
it" 

Immediately  after  that  Abe  got  Flint  and  Gibson's 
treatise  on  surveying  and  began  to  study  it  day  and 
night  under  the  eye  of  the  kindly  schoolmaster.  In 
about  six  weeks  he  had  mastered  the  book  and  re- 
ported for  duty. 

In  April  Abe  wrote  another  address  to  the  voters 
announcing  that  he  was  again  a  candidate  for  a  seat 
in  the  Legislature.  Late  that  month  Harry  walked 
with  him  to  Pappsville  where  a  crowd  had  assembled 
to  attend  a  public  sale.  When  the  auctioneer  had  fin- 
ished Abe  made  his  first  stump  speech.  A  drunken 
man  tried  to  divert  attention  to  himself  by  sundry 
interruptions.  Harry  asked  him  to  be  quiet,  where- 
upon the  ruffian  and  a  friend  pitched  upon  the  boy 
and  began  to  handle  him  roughly.  Abe  jumped  down, 
rushed  into  the  crowd,  seized  the  chief  offender  and 
raising  him  off  his  feet  flung  him  into  the  air.  He  hit 
the  ground  in  a  heap  some  four  yards  from  where 
Abe  stood.  The  latter  resumed  his  place  and  went 
on  with  his  speech.  The  crowd  cheered  him  and  there 


192  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

was  no  further  disturbance  at  that  meeting1.  The 
speech  was  a  modest,  straightforward  declaration  of 
his  principles.  When  he  was  leaving  several  voices 
called  for  a  story.  Abe  raised  a  great  laugh  with  a 
humorous  anecdote  in  which  he  imitated  the  dialect 
and  manners  of  a  Kentucky  backwoodsman.  They 
kept  him  on  the  auctioneer's  block  for  half  an  hour 
telling  the  wise  and  curious  folk  tales  of  which  he 
knew  so  many.  He  had  won  the  crowd  by  his  prin- 
ciples, his  humor  and  good  nature  as  well  as  by  the 
brave  and  decisive  exhibition  of  his  great  strength. 

Abe  and  Harry  went  to  a  number  of  settlements  in 
the  county  with  a  like  result  save  that  no  more  violence 
was  needed.  At  one  place  there  were  men  in  the 
crowd  who  knew  Harry's  record  in  the  war.  They 
called  on  him  for  a  speech.  He  spoke  on  the  need  of 
the  means  of  transportation  irr  Sangamon  County 
with  such  insight  and  dignity  and  convincing  candor 
that  both  Abe  and  the  audience  hailed  him  as  a  com- 
ing man.  Abe  and  he  were  often  seen  together  those 
days. 

In  New  Salem  they  were  called  the  disappointed  lov- 
ers. It  was  known  there  that  Abe  was  very  fond  of 
Ann  Rutledge  although  he  had  not,  as  yet,  openly 
confessed  to  any  one — not  even  to  Ann — there  being 
no  show  of  hope  for  him.  Ann  was  deeply  in  love 
with  John  McNeil — the  genial,  handsome  and  success- 
ful young  Irishman.  The  affair  had  reached  the  stage 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  193 

of  frankness,  of  an  open  discussion  of  plans,  of  fond 
affection  expressing  itself  in  caresses  quite  indifferent 
to  ridicule. 

For  Ann  it  had  been  like  warm  sunlight  on  the 
growing  rose.  She  was  neater  in  dress,  lovelier  in 
form  and  color,  more  graceful  in  movement  and 
sweeter-voiced  than  ever  she  had  been.  It  is  the  old 
way  that  Nature  has  of  preparing  the  young  to  come 
out  upon  the  stage  of  real  life  and  to  act  in  its  moving 
scenes.  Abe  manfully  gave  them  his  best  wishes  and 
when  he  spoke  of  Ann  it  was  done  very  tenderly.  The 
look  of  sadness,  which  all  had  noted  in  his  moments  of 
abstraction,  deepened  and  often  covered  his  face  with 
its  veil.  That  is  another  way  that  Nature  has  of  pre- 
paring the  young.  For  these  the  roses  have  fallen  and 
only  the  thorns  remain.  They  are  not  lured;  they 
seem  to  be  driven  to  their  tasks,  but  for  all,  soon  or 
late,  her  method  changes. 

On  a  beautiful  morning  of  June,  1834,  John  McNeil 
left  the  village.  Abe  Lincoln  and  Harry  and  Samson 
and  Sarah  and  Jack  Kelso  and  his  wife  stood  with  the 
Rutledges  in  the  dooryard  of  the  tavern  when  he 
rode  away.  He  was  going  back  to  his  home  in  the 
far  East  to  return  in  the  autumn  and  make  Ann  his 
bride.  The  girl  wept  as  if  her  heart  would  break 
when  he  turned  far  down  the  road  and  waved  his  hand 
to  her. 

"Oh,  my  pretty  lass!    Do  you  not  hear  the  birds 


194  'A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

singing  in  the  meadows?"  said  Jack  Kelso.  "Think 
of  the  happiness  all  around  you  and  of  the  greater 
happiness  that  is  coming  when  he  returns.  Shame  on 
you!" 

"I'm  afraid  he'll  never  come  back,"  Ann  sobbed. 

"Nonsense!  Don't  get  a  maggot  in  your  brain  and 
let  the  crows  go  walking  over  your  face.  Come,  we'll 
take  a  ride  in  the  meadows  and  if  I  don't  bring  you 
back  laughing  you  may  call  me  no  prophet." 

So  the  event  passed. 

Harry  traveled  about  with  Abe  a  good  deal  that 
summer,  "electioneering,"  as  they  called  it,  from  farm 
to  farm.  Samson  and  Sarah  regarded  the  association 
as  a  good  school  for  the  boy  who  had  a  taste  for  poli- 
tics. Abe  used  to  go  into  the  fields,  with  the  men 
whose  favor  he  sought,  and  bend  his  long  back  over  a 
scythe  or  a  cradle  and  race  them  playfully  across  the 
field  of  grain  cutting  a  wider  swath  than  any  other 
and  always  holding  the  lead.  Every  man  was  out  of 
breath  at  the  end  of  his  swath  and  needed  a  few  min- 
utes for  recuperation.  That  gave  Abe  a  chance  for 
his  statement  of  the  county's  needs  and  his  plan  of 
satisfying  them.  He  had  met  and  talked  with  a  ma- 
jority of  the  voters  before  the  campaign  ended  in  his 
election  in  August.  Those  travels  about  the  county 
h'.d  been  a  source  of  education  to  the  candidate  and 
the  voters. 

At  odd  times  that  summer  he  had  been  surveying  a 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  195 

new  road  with  Harry  Needles  for  his  helper.  In  Sep- 
tember they  resumed  their  work  upon  it  in  the  vicinity 
of  New  Salem  and  Abe  began  to  carry  the  letters  in 
his  hat  again.  Every  day  Ann  was  looking  for  him 
as  he  came  by  in  the  dim  light  of  the  early  morning  on 
his  way  to  work. 

"Anything  for  me?"  she  would  ask. 

"No  mail  in  since  I  saw  you,  Ann,"  was  the  usual 
answer. 

Often  he  would  say :  "I'm  afraid  not,  but  here — you 
take  these  letters  and  look  through  'em  aixi  make  sure." 

Ann  would  take  them  in  her  hands,  trembling  with 
eagerness,  and  run  indoors  to  the  candlelight,  and 
look  them  over.  Always  she  came  back  with  the  little 
bundle  of  letters  very  slowly  as  if  her  disappointment 
were  a  heavy  burden. 

"There'll  be  one  next  mail  if  I  have  to  write  it  my- 
self," Abe  said  one  morning  in  October  as  he  went 
on. 

To  Harry  Needles  who  was  with  him  that  morning 
he  said: 

"I  wonder  why  that  fellow  don't  write  to  Ann.  I 
couldn't  believe  that  he  has  been  fooling  her  but  now 
I  don't  know  what  to  think  of  him.  Every  day  I  have 
to  deliver  a  blow  that  makes  her  a  little  paler  and  thin- 
ner. It  hurts  me  like  smashing  a  ringer  nail.  I  won- 
der what  has  happened  to  the  fellow." 

The  mail  stage  was  late  that  evening.     As  it  had 


196  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

not  come  at  nine  Mr.  Hill  went  home  and  left  Abe  in 
the  store  to  wait  for  his  mail.  The  stage  arrived  a 
few  minutes  later.  It  came  as  usual  in  a  cloud  of  dust 
and  a  thunder  of  wheels  and  hoofs  mingled  with  the 
crack  of  the  lash,  the  driver  saving  his  horses  for  this 
little  display  of  pride  and  pomp  on  arriving  at  a  vil- 
lage. Abe  examined  the  little  bundle  of  letters  and 
newspapers  which  the  driver  had  left  with  him.  Then 
he  took  a  paper  and  sat  down  to  read  in  the  firelight. 
While  he  was  thus  engaged  the  door  opened  softly  and 
Ann  Rutledge  entered.  The  Postmaster  was  not  aware 
of  her  presence  until  she  touched  his  arm. 

"Please  give  me  a  letter,"  she  said. 

"Sit  down,  Ann,"  said  he,  very  gently,  as  he  placed 
a  chair  in  the  fire-glow. 

She  took  it,  turning  toward  him  with  a  look  of  fear 
and  hope.  Then  he  added : 

"I'm  sorry  but  the  truth  is  it  didn't  come." 

"Don't — don't  tell  me  that  again,"  she  pleaded  in  a 
broken  voice,  as  she  leaned  forward  covering  her  face 
with  her  hands. 

"It  is  terrible,  Ann,  that  I  have  to  help  in  this 
breaking  of  your  heart  that  is  going  on.  I  seem  to  be 
the  head  of  the  hammer  that  hits  you  so  hard  but  the 
handle  is  in  other  hands.  Honestly,  Ann,  I  wish  I 
could  do  the  suffering  for  you — every  bit  of  it — and 
give  your  poor  heart  a  rest.  Hasn't  he  written  you 
this  summer?" 

"Not  since  July  tenth,"  she  answered.     Then  she 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  197 

confided  to  Abe  the  fact  that  her  lover  had  told  her 
before  he  went  away  that  his  name  was  not  McNeil 
but  McNamar;-that  he  had  changed  his  name  to  keep 
clear  of  his  family  until  he  had  made  a  success;  that 
he  had  gone  east  to  get  his  father  and  mother  and 
bring  them  back  with  him;  lastly  she  came  to  the 
thing  that  worried  her  most — the  suspicion  of  her 
father  and  mother  that  John  was  not  honest. 

"They  say  that  nobody  but  a  liar  would  live  with  a 
false  name,"  Ann  told  him.  "They  say  that  he  prob- 
ably had  a  wife  when  he  came  here — that  that  is  why 
he  don't  write  to  me." 

Then  after  a  little  silence  she  pleaded :  "You  don't 
think  that,  do  you,  Abe?" 

"No,"  said  the  latter,  giving  her  the  advantage  of 
every  doubt.  "John  did  a  foolish  thing  but  we  must 
not  condemn  him  without  a  knowledge  of  the  facts. 
The  young  often  do  foolish  things  and  sickness  would 
account  for  his  silence.  But  whatever  the  facts  are 
you  mustn't  let  yourself  be  slain  by  disappointment. 
It  isn't  fair  to  your  friends.  John  McNamar  may  be 
the  best  man  in  the  world  still  the  fact  remains  that 
it  would  be  a  pretty  good  world  even  if  he  were  not 
in  it  and  I  reckon  there'd  be  lots  of  men  whose  love 
would  be  worth  having  too.  You  go  home  and  go  to 
sleep  and  stop  worrying,  Ann.  You'll  get  that  letter 
one  of  these  days." 

A  day  or  two  later  Abe  and  Harry  went  to  Spring- 
field. Their  reason  for  the  trip  lay  in  a  talk  between 


198  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

the  Postmaster  and  Jack  Kelso  the  night  before  as  they 
sat  by  the  latter's  fireside. 

"I've  been  living  where  there  was  no  one  to  find 
fault  with  my  parts  of  speech  or  with  the  parts  of 
my  legs  which  were  not  decently  covered,"  said  Abe. 
"The  sock  district  of  my  person  has  been  without  rep- 
resentation in  the  legislature  of  my  intellect  up  to  its 
last  session.  Then  we  got  a  bill  through  for  local  im- 
provements and  the  Governor  has  approved  the  appro- 
priation. Suddenly  we  discovered  that  there  was  no 
money  in  the  treasury.  But  Samson  Traylor  has 
offered  to  buy  an  issue  of  bonds  of  the  amount  of 
fifteen  dollars." 

"I'm  glad  to  hear  you  declare  in  favor  of  external 
improvements,"  said  Kelso.  "We've  all  been  too  much 
absorbed  by  internal  improvements.  You're  on  the 
right  trail,  Abe.  You've  been  thinking  of  the  public 
ear  and  too  little  of  the  public  eye.  We  must  show 
some  respect  for  both." 

"Sometimes  I  think  that  comely  dress  ought  to 
go  with  comely  diction,"  said  Abe.  "But  that's  a 
thing  you  can't  learn  in  books.  There's  no  gram- 
marian of  the  language  of  dress.  Then  I'm  so  big 
and  awkward.  It's  a  rather  hopeless  problem." 

"You're  in  good  company,"  Kelso  assured  him. 
"Nature  guards  her  best  men  with  some  sort  of  singu- 
larity not  attractive  to  others.  Often  she  makes  them 
odious  with  conceit  or  deformity  or  dumbness  or  gar- 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  199 

rulity.  Dante  was  such  a  poor  talker  that  no  one 
would  ever  ask  him  to  dinner.  If  it  had  not  been  so  I 
presume  his  muse  would  have  been  sadly  crippled  by 
indigestion.  If  you  had  been  a  good  dancer  and  a 
lady's  favorite  I  wonder  if  you  would  have  studied 
Kirkham  and  Burns  and  Shakespeare  and  'Blackstone 
and  Greenleaf,  and  the  science  of  surveying  and  been 
elected  to  the  Legislature.  I  wonder  if  you  could  even 
have  whipped  Jack  Armstrong." 

"Or  have  enjoyed  the  friendship  of  Bill  Berry 
and  acquired  a  national  debt,  or  have  saved  my 
imperiled  country  in  the  war  with  Black  Hawk,"  Abe 
laughed. 

In  the  matter  of  dress  the  Postmaster  had  great  con- 
fidence in  the  taste  and  knowledge  of  his  young  friend, 
Harry  Needles,  whose  neat  appearance  Abe  regarded 
with  serious  admiration.  So  he  asked  Harry  to  go 
with  him  on  this  new  mission  and  help  to  choose 
the  goods  and  direct  the  tailoring,  for  it  seemed  to  him 
a  highly  important  enterprise. 

"It's  a  difficult  problem,"  said  Abe.  "Given  a  big 
man  and  a  small  sum  and  the  large  amount  of  re- 
spectability that's  desired.  We  mustn't  make  a  mis- 
take." 

They  got  a  ride  part  of  the  way  with  a  farmer  go- 
ing home  from  Rutledge's  Mill. 

"Our  appropriation  is  only  fifteen  dollars,"  said  Abe 
as  they  came  in  sight  of  "the  big  village"  on  a  warm 


200  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

bright  day  late  in  October.  "Of  course  I  can't  expect 
to  make  myself  look  like  the  President  of  the  United 
States  with  such  a  sum  but  I  want  to  look  like  a  re- 
spectable citizen  of  the  United  States  if  that  is  possi- 
ble. I'll  give  the  old  Abe  and  fifteen  dollars  to  boot 
for  a  new  one  and  we'll  see  what  comes  of  it." 

Springfield  had  been  rapidly  changing.  It  was  still 
small  and  crude  but  some  of  the  best  standards  of 
civilization  had  been  set  up  in  that  community.  Fami- 
lies of  wealth  and  culture  in  the  East  had  sent  their 
sons  and  a  share  of  their  capital  to  this  little  metropolis 
of  the  land  of  plenty  to  go  into  business.  The  Ed- 
wardses  in  their  fine  top  boots  and  ruffled  shirts  were 
there.  So  were  certain  of  the  Ridgleys  of  Maryland — 
well  known  and  successful  bankers.  The  Logans  and 
the  Conklings  and  the  Stuarts  who  had  won  reputa- 
tions at  the  bar  before  they  arrived  were  now  settled 
in  Springfield.  Handsome,  well  groomed  horses,  in 
silver  mounted  harness,  drawing  carriages  that  shone 
"so  you  could  see  your  face  in  them,"  to  quote  from 
Abe  again,  were  on  its  streets. 

"My  conscience!  What  a  lot  of  jingling  and  high 
stepping  there  is  here  in  the  street  and  on  the  side- 
walk," said  Abe  as  they  came  into  the  village.  "I 
reckon  there's  a  mile  of  gold  watch  chains  in  this 
crowd." 

A  public  sale  was  on  and  the  walks  were  thronged. 
Women  in  fine  silks  and  millinery;  men  in  tall  beaver 


2OI 


hats  and  broadcloth  and  fine  linen  touched  elbows 
with  the  hairy,  rough  clad  men  of  the  prairies  and 
their  worn  wives  in  old-fashioned  bonnets  and  faded 
coats. 

The  two  New  Salem  men  stopped  and  studied  a 
big  sign  in  front  of  a  large  store  on  which  this  an- 
nouncement had  been  lettered : 

"Cloths,  cassinettes,  cassimeres,  velvet  silks,  satins, 
Marseilles  waistcoating,  fine,  calf  boots,  seal  and  mo- 
rocco pumps  for  gentlemen,  crepe  lisse,  lace  veils. 
Thibet  shawls,  fine  prunella  shoes." 

"Reads  like  a  foreign  language  to  me,"  said  Abe. 
"The  pomp  of  the  East  has  got  here  at  last.  I'd  like 
to  know  what  seal  and  morocco  pumps  are.  I  reckon 
they're  a  contrivance  that  goes  down  into  a  man's 
pocket  and  sucks  it  dry.  I  wonder  what  a  cassinette 
is  like,  and  a  prunella  shoe.  How  would  you  like  a 
little  Marseilles  waistcoating?" 

Suddenly  a  man  touched  his  shoulder  with  a  hearty 
"Howdy,  Abe?" 

It  was  Eli,  "the  wandering  Jew,"  as  he  had  been 
wont  to  call  himself  in  the  days  when  he  carried  a  pack 
on  the  road  through  Peter's  Bluff  and  Clary's  Grove 
and  New  Salem  to  Beardstown  and  back. 

"Dis  is  my  store,"  said  Eli. 

"Your  store!"  Abe  exclaimed. 

"Ya,  look  at  de  sign." 


202  A'  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

The  Jew  pointed  to  his  sign-board,  some  fifty  feet 
long  under  the  cornice,  on  which  they  read  the  legend : 

"Eli  Fredenberg's  Emporium." 

Abe  looked  him  over  from  head  to  foot  and  ex- 
claimed : 

"My  conscience !  You  look  as  if  you  had  been  fixed 
up  to  be  sold  to  the  highest  bidder." 

The  hairy,  dusty,  bow-legged,  threadbare  peddler 
had  been  touched  by  some  miraculous  hand.  The  lav- 
ish hand  of  the  West  had  showered  her  favors  on  him. 
They  resembled  in  some  degree  the  barbaric  pearl  and 
gold  of  the  East.  He  glowed  with  prosperity.  Dia- 
monds and  ruffled  linen  and  Scotch  plaid  and  red 
silk  on  his  neck  and  a  blue  band  on  his  hat  and  a 
smooth-shorn  face  and  perfumery  were  the  glittering 
details  that  surrounded  the  person  of  Eli. 

"Come  in,"  urged  the  genial  proprietor  of  the  Em- 
porium. "I  vould  like  to  show  you  my  goots  and  in- 
troduce you  to  my  brudder." 

They  went  in  and  met  his  brother  and  had  their 
curiosity  satisfied  as  to  the  look  and  feel  of  cassinettes 
and  waistcoatings  and  seal  and  morocco  pumps  and 
prunella  shoes. 

In  the  men's  department  after  much  thoughtful  dis- 
cussion they  decided  upon  a  suit  of  blue  jeans — that 
being1  the  only  goods  which,  in  view  of  the  amount 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  203 

of  cloth  required,  came  within  the  appropriation.  Eli 
advised  against  it. 

"You  are  like  Eli  already,"  he  said.  "You  haf 
got  de  pack  off  your  back.  Look  at  me.  Don't  you 
hear  my  clothes  say  somet'ing?" 

"They  are  very  eloquent,"  said  Abe. 

"Veil  dey  make  a  speech.  Dey  say  'Eli  Fredenberg- 
he  i's  no  more  a  poor  devil.  You  can  not  sneeze  at 
him  once  again.  Nefer.  He  has  climb  de  ladder  up.' 
Now  you  let  me  sell  you  somet'ing  vat  makes  a 
good  speech  for  you." 

"If  you'll  let  me  dictate  the  speech  I'll  agree,"  said 
Abe. 

"Veil— vat  is  it?"  Eli  asked. 

"I  would  like  my  clothes  to  say  in  a  low  tone  of 
voice:  'This  is  humble  Abraham  Lincoln  about  the 
same  length  and  breadth  that  I  am.  He  don't  want 
to  scare  or  astonish  anybody.  He  don't  want  to  look 
like  a  beggar  or  a  millionaire.  Just  put  him  down  for 
a  hard  working  man  of  good  intentions  who  is  badly 
in  debt.' " 

That  ended  all  argument.  The  suit  of  blue  jeans 
was  ordered  and  the  measures  taken.  As  they  were 
about  to  go  Eli  said : 

"I  forgot  to  tell  you  dot  I  haf  seen  Bim  Kelso  de 
odder  day  in  St.  Louis.  I  haf  seen  her  on  de  street. 
She  has  been  like  a  queen  so  grand !  De  hat  and  gown 
from  Paris  and  she  valk  so  proud !  But  she  look 


204  'A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

not  so  happy  like  she  usit  to  be.  I  speak  to  her.  Oh 
my,  she  vas  glad  and  so  surprised!  She  tolt  me  dot 
she  vould  like  to  come  home  for  a  visit  but  her  husband 
he  does  not  vant  her  to  go  dere — nefer  again.  My 
jobber  haf  tolt  me  dot  Mr.  Biggs  is  git  drunk  efery 
day.  Bim  she  t'ink  de  place  no  good.  She  haf  tolt 
me  dey  treat  de  niggers  awful.  She  haf  cry  ven  she 
tolt  me  dot." 

"Poor  child!"  said  Abe.  "I'm  afraid  she's  in  trou- 
ble." 

"I've  been  thinking  for  some  time  that  I'd  go  down 
there  and  try  to  see  her,"  said  Harry  as  they  were  leav- 
ing the  store.  "Now,  I'll  have  to  go." 

"Maybe  I'll  go  with  you,"  said  Abe. 

They  got  a  ride  part  of  the  way  back  and  had  a 
long  tramp  again  under  the  starlight. 

"I  don't  believe  you  had  better  go  down  to  St. 
Louis,"  Abe  remarked  as  they  walked  along.  "It 
might  make  things  worse.  I'm  inclined  to  think  that 
I'd  do  better  alone  with  that  problem." 

"I  guess  you're  right,"  said  Harry.  "It  would  b« 
like  me  to  do  something  foolish." 

"And  do  it  very  thoroughly,"  Abe  suggested, 
"You're  in  love  with  the  girl.  I  wouldn't  trust  your 
judgment  in  St.  Louis." 

"She  hasn't  let  on  to  her  parents  that  she's  unhap- 
py. Mother  Traylor  told  me  that  they  got  a  letter 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  205 

from  her  last  week  that  told  of  the  good  times  she  was 
having." 

"We  know  what  that  means.  She  can't  bear  to 
acknowledge  to  them  that  she  has  made  a  mistake  and 
she  don't  want  to  worry  them.  Her  mother  is  in  part 
responsible  for  the  marriage.  Bim  don't  want  her  to 
be  blamed.  Eli  caught  her  off  her  guard  and  her  heart 
and  her  face  spoke  to  him." 

In  a  moment  Abe  added:  "Her  parents  have  be- 
gun to  suspect  that  something  is  wrong.  They  have 
never  been  invited  to  go  down  there  and  visit  the  girl. 
I  reckon  we'd  better  say  nothing  to  any  one  of  what 
we  have  heard  at  present." 

They  reached  New  Salem  in  the  middle  of  the  night 
and  went  into  Rutledge's  barn  and  lay  down  on  the 
haymow  between  two  buffalo  hides  until  morning. 


CHAPTER  XII 

WHICH  CONTINUES  THE  ROMANCE  OF  ABE  AND  ANN 
UNTIL  THE  FORMER  LEAVES  NEW  SALEM  TO  BEGIN 
HIS  WORK  IN  THE  LEGISLATURE.  ALSO  IT  DE- 
SCRIBES THE  COLONELING  OF  PETER  LUKINS. 

THE  next  day  after  his  return,  Abe  received  a  letter 
for  Ann.  She  had  come  over  to  the  store  on  the  ar- 
rival of  the  stage  and  taken  her  letter  and  run  home 
with  it.  That  Saturday's  stage  brought  the  new  suit 
of  clothes  from  Springfield.  Sunday  morning  Abe 
put  it  on  and  walked  over  to  Kelso's.  Mrs.  Kelso  was 
sweeping  the  cabin. 

"We  shall  have  to  stand  outside  a  moment,"  said 
Jack.  "I  have  an  inappeasable  hatred  of  brooms.  A 
lance  in  the  hand  of  the  Black  Knight  was  not  more 
terrible  than  a  broom  in  the  hands  of  a  righteous 
woman.  I  had  to  flee  from  The  Life  and  Adventures 
of  Duncan  Campbell  when  I  saw  the  broom  flashing  in 
a  cloud  of  dust  and  retreated." 

He  stepped  to  the  door  and  said :  "A  truce,  madam ! 
Here  is  the  Honorable  Abraham  Lincoln  in  his  new 
suit" 

Mrs.  Kelso  came  out-of-doors  and  she  and  her 
husband  surveyed  the  tall  young  Postmaster. 

"Well  it  is,  at  least,  sufficient,"  said  Kelso. 
206 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  207 

"The  coat  ought  to  be  a  little  longer,"  Mrs.  Kelso 
suggested. 

"It  will  be  long  enough  before  I  get  another,"  said 
Abe. 

"It  is  not  what  one  would  call  an  elegant  suit  but 
it's  all  right,"  Kelso  added. 

"The  fact  is,  elegance  and  I  wouldn't  get  along  well 
together,"  Abe  answered.  "It  would  be  like  going  into 
partnership  with  Bill  Berry." 

"Next  month  you'll  be  off  at  the  capital  and  we  shall 
be  going  to  Tazewell  County,"  said  Kelso. 

"To  Tazewell  County  1" 

"Aye.  It's  a  changing  world!  We  should  always 
remember  that  things  can  not  go  on  with  us  as  they 
are.  The  Governor  has  given  me  a  job." 

"And  me  a  great  sadness,"  said  Abe.  "You  must 
always  let  me  know  where  to  find  you." 

"Aye !  Many  a  night  you  and  I  shall  hear  the  cock 
crowing." 

It  was  an  Indian  summer  day  of  the  first  week  in 
November.  That  afternoon  Abe  went  to  the  tavern 
and  asked  Ann  to  walk  out  to  the  Traylors'  with  him. 
She  seemed  to  be  glad  to  go.  She  was  not  the  cheer- 
ful, quick  footed,  rosy  cheeked  Ann  of  old.  Her  face 
was  pale,  her  eyes  dull  and  listless,  her  step  slow. 
Neither  spoke  until  they  had  passed  the  Waddell  cabin 
and  were  come  to  the  open  fields. 

"I  hope  your  letter  brought  good  news,"  said  Abe. 

"It  was  very  short,"  Ann  answered.     "He  took  a 


208  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

fever  in  Ohio  and  was  sick  there  four  weeks  and  then 
he  went  home.  In  two  months  he  never  wrote  a  word 
to  me.  And  this  one  was  only  a  little  bit  of  a  letter 
with  no  love  in  it.  I  don't  believe  he  will  ever  come 
back.  I  don't  think  he  cares  for  me  now  or,  perhaps, 
he  is  married.  I  don't  know.  I'm  not  going  to  cry 
about  it  any  more.  I  can't  I've  no  more  tears  to  shed. 
I've  given  him  up." 

"Then  I  reckon  the  time  has  come  for  me  to  tell 
you  what  is  on  my  heart,"  said  Abe.  "I  love  you,  Ann. 
I  have  loved  you  for  years.  I  would  have  told  you 
long  ago  but  I  could  not  make  myself  believe  that  I 
was  good  enough  for  you.  I  love  you  so  much  mat 
if  you  can  only  be  happy  with  John  McNamar  I  will 
pray  to  God  that  he  may  turn  out  to  be  a  good  and 
faithful  man  and  come  back  and  keep  his  promise." 

She  looked  up  at  him  with  a  kind  of  awe  in  her 
face. 

"Oh,  Abe!"  she  whispered.  "I  had  made  up  my 
mind  that  men  were  all  bad  but  my  father.  I  was 
wrong.  I  did  not  think  of  you." 

"Men  are  mostly  good,"  said  Abe.  "But  it's  very 
easy  to  misunderstand  them.  In  my  view  it's  quite 
likely  that  John  McNamar  is  better  than  you  think 
him.  I  want  you  to  be  fair  to  John.  If  you  conclude 
that  you  can  not  be  happy  with  him  give  me  a  chance. 
I  would  do  my  best  to  bring  back  the  joy  of  the  old 
days.  Sometimes  I  think  that  I  am  going  to  do  some- 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  209 

thing  worth  while.  Sometimes  I  think  that  I  can  see 
my  way  far  ahead  and  it  looks  very  pleasant,  and  you, 
Ann,  are  always  walking  beside  me  in  it." 

They  proceeded  in  silence  for  a  moment.  A  great 
flock  of  wild  pigeons  darkened  the  sky  above  them  and 
filled  it  with  the  whirr  of  their  wings.  The  young 
man  and  woman  stopped  to  look  up  at  them. 

"They  are  going  south,"  said  Abe.  "It's  a  sign  of 
bad  weather." 

They  stood  talking  for  a  little  time. 

"I'm  glad  they  halted  us  for  we  have  not  far  to  go," 
Abe  remarked.  "Before  .we  take  another  step  I  wish 
you  could  give  me  some  hope  to  live  on — just  a  little 
straw  of  hope." 

"You  are  a  wonderful  man,  Abe,"  said  Ann,  touched 
by  his  appeal.  "My  father  says  that  you  are  going  to 
be  a  great  man." 

"I  can  not  hold  out  any  such  hope  to  you,"  Abe  an- 
swered. "I'm  rather  ignorant  and  badly  in  debt  but 
I  reckon  that  I  can  make  a  good  living  and  give  you 
a  comfortable  home.  Don't  you  think,  taking  me  just 
as  I  am,  you  could  care  for  me  a  little?" 

"Yes;  sometimes  I  think  that  I  could  love  you, 
Abe,"  she  answered.  "I  do  not  love  you  yet  but  I 
may — sometime.  I  really  want  to  love  you." 

"That  is  all  I  can  ask  now,"  said  Abe  as  they  went 
on.  "Do  you  hear  from  Bim  Kelso  ?" 

"I  have  not  heard  from  her  since  June." 


210  A<  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

"I  wish  you  would  write  to  her  and  tell  her  that  I 
am  thinking  of  going  down  to  St.  Louis  and  that  I 
would  like  to  go  and  see  her." 

"I'll  write  to  her  to-morrow,"  said  Ann. 

They  had  a  pleasant  visit  and  while  Ann  was  play- 
ing with  the  baby  she  seemed  to  have  forgotten  her 
troubles.  They  stayed  to  supper,  after  which  the  whole 
family  walked  to  the  tavern  with  them,  Joe  and  Betsey 
drawing  the  baby  in  their  "bumble  wagon,"  which 
Samson  had  made  for  them.  When  Ann  began  to 
show  weariness,  Abe  gently  lifted  her  in  his  arms  and 
carried  her. 

That  evening  Mrs.  Peter  Lukins  called  upon  Abe 
at  Sam  Hill's  store  where  he  sat  alone,  before  the  fire, 
reading  with  two  candles  burning  on  the  end  of  a  dry 
goods  box  at  his  elbow. 

There  was  an  anxious  look  in  her  one  eye  as  she 
accepted  his  invitation  to  sit  down  in  the  firelight. 

"I  wanted  to  see  you  private  'bout  Lukins,"  she  be- 
gan. "There's  them  that  calls  him  Bony  Lukins  but  I 
reckon  he  ain't  no  bonier  than  the  everidge  run  o'  men 
— not  a  bit — an'  if  he  was  I  don't  reckon  his  bones 
orto  be  throwed  at  him  every  time  he's  spoke  to  that 
away." 

Peter  Lukins  was  a  slim,  sober  faced,  quiet  little 
man  with  a  long  nose  who  worked  in  the  carding  mill. 
He  never  spoke,  save  when  spoken  to,  and  then  with 
a  solemn  look  as  if  the  matter  in  hand,  however  slight, 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  211 

were  likely  to  affect  his  eternal  welfare.  In  his  cups 
he  was  speechless  and,  in  a  way,  dumb  with  merriment. 
He  answered  no  questions,  he  expressed  no  opinions,  he 
told  no  stories.  He  only  smiled  and  broke  into  roars 
of  laughter,  even  if  there  was  no  one  to  share  his 
joy,  as  if  convinced,  at  last,  of  the  hopeless  absurdity 
of  life.  Some  one  told  of  following  him  from  Spring- 
field to  New  Salem  and  of  hearing  him  laugh  all  the 
way.  Many  had  noted  another  peculiarity  in  the  man. 
He  seemed  always  to  have  a  week's  growth  of  beard 
on  his  face. 

"What  can  I  do  about  it  ?"  Abe  asked. 

"I've  been  hopin'  an'  wishin'  some  kind  of  a  decent 
handle  could  be  put  on  to  his  name,"  said  Mrs.  Lukins, 
with  her  eye  upon  a  knot  hole  in  the  counter. 
''Something  with  a  good  sound  to  it.  You  said  that 
anything  you  could  do  for  the  New  Salem  folks  you 
was  goin'  to  do  an'  I  thought  maybe  you  could  fix  it." 

Abe  smiled  and  asked :  "Do  you  want  a  title  ?" 

"If  it  ain't  plum  owdacious  I  wisht  he  could  be 
made  a  Colonel." 

"That's  a  title  for  fighting  men,"  said  Abe. 

"An'  that  man  has  fit  for  his  life  ever  since  he  was 
born,"  said  Mrs.  Lukins.  "He's  fit  the  measles  an'  the 
smallpox  an'  the  fever  an'  ager  an'  conquered  'em." 

"I  reckon  he  deserves  the  title,"  Abe  remarked. 

"I  ain't  sayin'  but  what  there  is  purtier  men,"  she 
said,  reflectively,  as  she  stuck  her  finger  into  the  knot 


212  'A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

hole  and  felt  its  edges.  "I  ain't  sayin'  but  what  there 
is  smarter  men  but  I  do  say  that  the  name  o'  Bony 
ain't  hardly  fit  to  be  heard  in  company." 

"A  little  whitewash  wouldn't  hurt  it  any,"  said  Abe. 
"I'd  gladly  give  him  my  title  of  Captain  if  I  could  un- 
hitch it  someway." 

"Colonel  is  a  more  grander  name,"  she  insisted. 
"I  call  it  plum  coralapus." 

She  had  thus  expressed  her  notion  of  the  limit  of 
human  grandeur. 

"Do  you  like  it  better  than  Judge  ?" 

"Wall,  Judge  has  a  good  sound  to  it  but  I'm  plum 
sot  on  Colonel.  If  you  kin  give  that  name  to  a  horse, 
which  Samson  Traylor  has  done  it,  I  don't  see  why  a 
man  shouldn't  be  treated  just  as  well." 

"I'll  see  what  can  be  done  but  if  he  gets  that  title 
he'll  have  to  live  up  to  it." 

"I'll  make  him  walk  a  chalk  line — you  see,"  the  good 
woman  promised  as  she  left  the  store. 

That  evening  Abe  wrote  a  playful  commission  as 
Colonel  for  Peter  Lukins  which  was  signed  in  due  time 
by  all  his  friends  and  neighbors  and  presented  to  Lu- 
kins by  a  committee  of  which  Abe  was  chairman. 

Coleman  Smoot — a  man  of  some  means  who  had  a 
farm  on  the  road  to  Springfield — was  in  the  village 
that  evening.  Abe  showed  him  the  commission  and 
asked  him  to  sign  it. 

"I'll  sign  it  on  one  condition,"  said  Smoot. 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  213 

"What  is  that?"  Abe  asked. 

"That  you'll  give  me  a  commission." 

"A  man  like  you  can't  expect  too  much.  Would 
you  care  to  be  a  General?" 

"I  wouldn't  give  the  snap  of  my  ringer  for  that. 
What  I  want  to  be  is  your  friend." 

"You  are  that  now,  aren't  you?"  Abe  asked. 

"Yes,  but  I  haven't  earned  my  commission.  You 
haven't  given  me  a  chance  yet.  What  can  I  do  to 
help  you  along?" 

Abe  was  much  impressed  by  these  kindly  words. 

"My  friends  do  not  often  ask  what  they  can  do 
for  me,"  he  said.  "I  suppose  they  haven't  thought  of 
it.  I'll  think  it  over  and  let  you  know." 

Three  days  later  he  walked  out  to  Coleman  Smoot's 
after  supper.  As  they  sat  together  by  the  fireside  Abe 
said : 

"I've  been  thinking  of  your  friendly  question.  It's 
dangerous  to  talk  that  way  to  a  man  like  me.  The 
fact  is  I  need  two  hundred  dollars  to  pay  pressing  debts 
and  give  me  something  in  my  pocket  when  I  go  to 
Vandalia.  If  you  can  not  lend  it  to  me  I  shall  think 
none  the  less  of  you." 

"I  can  and  will,"  said  Smoot.  "I've  been  watching 
you  for  a  long  time.  A  man  who  tries  as  hard  as  you 
do  to  get  along  deserves  to  be  helped.  I  believe  in  you. 
I'll  go  up  to  Springfield  and  get  the  money  and  bring  it 
to  you  within  a  week  or  so." 


214  'A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

Abe  Lincoln  had  many  friends  who  would  have  done 
the  like  for  him  if  they  could,  and  he  knew  it. 

"Every  one  has  faith  in  you,"  said  Smoot.  "We 
expect  much  of  you  and  we  ought  to  be  willing  to  do 
what  we  can  to  help." 

"Your  faith  will  be  my  strength  if  I  have  any," 
said  Abe. 

On  his  way  home  that  night  he  thought  of  what 
Jack  Kelso  had  said  of  democracy  and  friendship. 

On  the  twenty-second  of  November  a  letter  came 
to  Ann  from  Bim  Kelso  which  announced  that  she 
was  going  to  New  Orleans  for  the  winter  with  her  hus- 
band. Thereupon  Abe  gave  up  the  idea  of  going  to 
St.  Louis  and  six  days  later  took  the  stage  for  the 
capital,  at  Rutledge's  door,  where  all  the  inhabitants 
of  the  village  had  assembled  to  bid  him  good-by.  Ann 
Rutledge  with  a  flash  of  her  old  playfulness  kissed  him 
when  he  got  into  the  stage.  Abe's  long  arm  was  wav- 
ing in  the  air  as  he  looked  back  at  his  cheering  friends 
while  the  stage  rumbled  down  the  road  toward  the 
great  task  of  his  life  upon  which  he  was  presently  to 
begin  in  the  little  village  of  Vandalia. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

WHEREIN  THE  ROUTE  OF  THE  UNDERGROUND  RAILROAD 
IS  SURVEYED  AND  SAMSON  AND  HARRY  SPEND  A 
NIGHT  IN  THE  HOME  OF  HENRY  BRIMSTEAD  AND 
HEAR  SURPRISING  REVELATIONS,  CONFIDENTIALLY 
DISCLOSED,  AND  ARE  CHARMED  BY  THE  PERSON- 
ALITY OF  HIS  DAUGHTER  ANNABEL. 

EARLY  in  the  autumn  of  that  year  the  Reverend 
Elijah  Lovejoy  of  Alton  had  spent  a  night  with  the 
Traylors  on  his  way  to  the  North.  Sitting  by  the 
fireside  he  had  told  many  a  vivid  tale  of  the  cruelties 
of  slavery. 

"I  would  not  have  you  think  that  all  slave-holders 
are  wicked  and  heartless,"  he  said.  "They  are  like 
other  men  the  world  over.  Some  are  kind  and  indul- 
gent. If  all  men  were  like  them  slavery  could  be  tol- 
erated. But  they  are  not.  Some  men  are  brutal  in 
the  North  as  well  as  in  the  South.  If  not  made  so  by 
nature  they  are  made  so  by  drink.  To  give  them  the 
power  of  life  and  death  over  human  beings,  which 
they  seem  to  have  in  parts  of  the  South,  is  a  crime 
against  God  and  civilization.  Our  country  can  not  live 
and  prosper  with  such  a  serpent  in  its  bosom.  No 
good  man  should  rest  until  the  serpent  is  slain." 

"I  agree  with  you,"  said  Samson. 
215 


216  'A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

"I  knew  that  you  would,"  the  minister  went  on. 
"We  have  already  had  some  help  from  you  but  we 
need  more.  I  take  it  as  a  duty  which  God  has  laid 
upon  me  to  help  every  fugitive  that  reaches  my  door. 
Thousands  of  New  Englanders  have  come  into  Illi- 
nois in  the  last  year.  They  will  help  the  good  work 
of  mercy  and  grace.  If  you  hear  three  taps  upon  your 
window  after  dark  or  the  hoot  of  an  owl  in  your  door- 
yard  you  will  know  what  it  means.  Fix  some  place 
on  your  farm  where  these  poor  people  who  are  seek- 
ing the  freedom  which  God  wills  for  all  His  children, 
may  find  rest  and  refreshment  and  security  until  they 
have  strength  to  go  on." 

Within  a  week  after  the  visit  of  Mr.  Lovejo};  Sam- 
son and  Harry  built  a  hollow  haystack  about  half-way 
from  the  house  to  the  barn.  The  stack  had  a  comfort- 
able room  inside  of  it  about  eight  feet  by  seven  and 
some  six  feet  in  height.  Its  entrance  was  an  opening 
near  the  bottom  of  the  stack  well  screened  by  the 
pendant  hay.  But  no  fugitive  came  to  occupy  it  that 
winter. 

Early  in  March  Abe  wrote  a  letter  to  Samson  in 
which  he  said: 

"I  have  not  been  doing  much.  I  have  been  getting 
the  hang  of  things.  There  are  so  many  able  men  here 
that  I  feel  like  being  modest  for  a  while.  It's  good 
practice  if  it  is  a  little  hard  on  me.  Here  are  such 
men  as  Theodore  Ford,  William  L.  D.  Ewing,  Stephen 
T.  Logan,  Jesse  K.  Duboi's  and  Governor  Duncan. 
You  can  not  wonder  that  I  feel  like  lying  low  until  I 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  217 

can  see  my  way  a  little  more  clearly.  I  have  met  here 
a  young  man  from  your  state  of  the  name  of  Stephen 
A.  Douglas.  He  is  twenty-one  years  old  and  about 
the  least  man  I  ever  saw  to  look  at  but  he  is  bright  and 
very  ambitious.  He  has  taught  school  and  studied  law 
and  been  admitted  to  the  bar  and  is  bristling  up  to 
John  J.  Hardin  in  a  contest  for  the  office  of  State's 
Attorney.  Some  pumpkins  for  a  boy  of  twenty-one  I 
reckon.  No  chance  for  internal  improvements  this 
session.  Money  is  plenty  and  next  year  I  think  we 
can  begin  harping  on  that  string.  More  than  ever 
I  am  convinced  that  it  is  no  time  for  anti-slavery  agi- 
tation much  as  we  may  feel  inclined  to  it.  There's 
too  much  fire  under  the  pot  now." 

Soon  after  the  new  year  of  1835  Samson  and  Harry 
moved  the  Kelsos  to  Tazewell  County.  Mr.  Kelso  had 
received  an  appointment  as  Land  Agent  and  was  to 
be  stationed  at  the  little  settlement  of  Springdale  near 
the  home  of  John  Peasley. 

"I  hate  to  be  taking  you  so  far  away,"  said  Sam- 
son. 

"Hush,  man,"  said  Kelso.  "It's  a  thing  to  be  thought 
about  only  in  the  still  o'  the  night." 

"I  shall  be  lonesome." 

"But  we  live  close  by  the  wells  of  wisdom  and  so  we 
shall  not  be  comfortless." 

Late  in  the  afternoon  Harry  and  Samson  left  the 
Kelsos  and  their  effects  at  a  small  frame  house  in 
the  little  village  of  Springdale.  The  men  had  no 
sooner  begun  to  unload  than  its  inhabitants  came  to 


218  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

welcome  the  newcomers  and  help  them  in  the  work 
of  getting  settled.  When  the  goods  were  deposited  in 
the  dooryard  Samson  and  Harry  drove  to  John  Peas- 
ley's  farm.  Mr.  Peasley  recognized  the  big,  broad- 
shouldered  Vermonter  at  the  first  look. 

"Do  I  remember  you?"  he  said.  "Well,  I  guess  I 
do.  So  does  my  barn  door.  Let  me  take  hold  of  that 
right  hand  of  yours  again.  Yes,  sir.  It's  the  same  old 
iron  hand.  Many  Ann!"  he  called  as  his  wife  came 
out  of  the  door.  "Here's  the  big  man  from  Vergennes 
who  tossed  the  purty  slaver." 

"I  see  it  is,"  she  answered.     "Ain't  ye  comin'  in?" 

"We've  been  moving  a  man  to  Springdale  and  shall 
have  to  spend  the  night  somewhere  in  this  neighbor- 
hood," said  Samson.  "Our  horses  are  played  out." 

"If  you  try  to  pass  this  place  I'll  have  ye  took  up," 
said  Peasley.  "There's  plenty  of  food  in  the  house  an* 
stable." 

"Look  here — that's  downright  selfish,"  said  his  wife, 
"If  we  tried  to  keep  you  here  Henry  Brimstead  would 
never  forgive  us.  He  talks  about  you  morning,  noon 
and  night.  Any  one  would  think  that  you  was  the 
Samson  that  slew  the  Philistines." 

"How  is  Henry?"  Samson  asked. 

"He  married  my  sister  and  they're  about  as  happy 
as  they  can  be  this  side  the  river  Jordan,"  she  went 
on.  "They've  got  one  o'  the  best  farms  in  Tazewell 
County  and  they're  goi'n'  to  be  rich.  They've  built 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  219 

'em  a  splendid  house  with  a  big  spare  room  in  it.  Henry 
would  have  a  spare  room  because  he  said  that  maybe 
the  Traylors  would  be  comin'  here  to  visit  'em  some 
time." 

"Yes,  sir;  I  didn't  think  o'  that,"  said  Peasley. 
"Henry  and  his  wife  would  holler  if  we  didn't  take  ye 
over  there.  It's  only  a  quarter  of  a  mile.  I'll  show 
ye  the  way  and  we'll  all  come  over  this  evening  and 
have  a  talkin'  bee."  . 

Samson  was  pleased  and  astonished  by  the  look 
of  Brimstead  and  his  home  and  his  family  and  the 
account  of  his  success.  The  man  from  the  sand  flats 
had  built  a  square,  two-story  house  with  a  stairway 
and  three  rooms  above  it  and  two  below.  He  was 
cleanly  shaved,  save  for  a  black  mustache,  and  neat- 
ly dressed  and  his  face  glowed  with  health  and  high 
spirits.  A  handsome  brown-eyed  miss  of  seventeen 
came  galloping  up  the  road  on  her  pony  and  stopped 
near  them. 

"Annabel,  do  you  remember  this  man?"  Brimstead 
asked. 

The  girl  looked  at  Samson. 

"He  is  the  man  who  helped  us  out  of  Flea  Valley," 
said  the  girl. 

Brimstead  leaned  close  to  the  ear  of  Samson  and 
said  in  a  low  tone : 

"Say,  everything  knew  how  to  jump  there.  I  had 
a  garden  that  could  hop  over  the  fence  and  back 


220  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

ag'in.  Sometimes  it  was  there  and  sometimes  it  was 
off  on  a  vacation.  I  jumped  as  soon  as  I  got  the 
chance." 

"We  call  it  No  Santa  Claus  Land,"  said  Samson. 
"Do  ye  remember  how  the  little  girl  clung  to  the  wa- 
gon?" 

"That  was  me,"  said  a  small  miss  of  ten  who  ran  out 
of  the  door  into  the  arms  of  the  big  man  and  kissed 
him. 

"Would  you  mind  if  I  kissed  you?"  Annabel  asked. 

"I  would  be  sorry  if  you  didn't,"  said  Samson. 
"Here's  my  boy,  Harry  Needles.  You  wouldn't  dare 
kiss  him  I  guesSo" 

"I  would  be  sorry,  too,  if  you  didn't,"  Harry  laughed 
as  he  took  hei  hand. 

"I'm  afraid  you'll  have  to  stay  sorry,"  said  Anna- 
bel turning  red  with  embarrassment.  "I  never  saw 
you  before." 

"Better  late  than  never,"  Samson  assured  her.  "You 
don't  often  see  a  better  fellow." 

The  girl  laughed,  with  a  subtle  look  of  agreement 
in  her  eyes.  Then  came  up  from  the  barn  the  ragged 
little  lad  of  No  Santa  Claus  Land — now  a  sturdy, 
bright  eyed,  handsome  boy  of  twelve. 

The  horses  were  put  out  and  all  went  in  to  supper. 

"I  have  always  felt  sorry  for  any  kind  of  a  slave," 
said  Samson  as  they  sat  down.  "When  I  saw  you  on 
the  sand  plains  you  were  in  bondage." 

"Say,  I'll  tell  ye,"  said  Brimstead,  as  he  leaned  to- 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  221 

ward  Samson,  seeming  to  be  determined  at  last  to  make 
a  clean  breast  of  it.  "Say,  I  didn't  own  that  farm.  It 
owned  me.  I  got  a  sandy  intellect.  Couldn't  get  any- 
thing out  of  it  but  disappointment.  My  farm  was 
mortgaged  to  the  bank  and  I  was  mortgaged  to  the 
children.  I  couldn't  even  die." 

Samson  wrote  in  his  diary  that  night : 

"When  Brimstead.  brings  his  sense  of  humor  into 
play  he  acts  as  if  he  was  telling  a  secret.  When  he 
says  anything  that  makes  me  laugh,  he's  terribly  confi- 
dential. Seems  so  he  was  kind  of  ashamed  of  it.  He 
never  laughs  himself  unless  he  does  it  inside.  His 
voice  always  drops,  too,  when  he  talks  business." 

"The  man  that's  a  fool  and  don't  know  it  is  a  good 
deal  worse  off,"  said  Samson. 

"Say,  I'll  tell  ye  he's  worse  off  but  he's  happier.  If 
it  hurts  there's  hope  for  ye." 

"They  tell  me  you've  prospered,"  said  Samson. 

Brimstead  spoke  in  a  most  confidential  tone  as  he 
answered:  "Say,  I'll  tell  ye — no  wise  man  is  ever  an 
idiot  but  once.  I  wouldn't  care  to  spread  it  around 
much  but  we're  gettin'  along.  I've  built  this  house 
and  got  my  land  paid  for.  You  see  we  are  only  four 
miles  from  the  Illinois  River  on  a  good  road.  I  can 
ship  my  grain  to  Alton  or  St.  Louis  or  New  Orleans 
without  much  trouble.  I've  invented  a  machine  to  cut 
it  and  a  double  plow  and  I  expect  to  have  them  both 
working  next  year.  They  ought  to  treble  my  output 
at  least." 


222  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

After  supper  Brimstead  showed  models  of  a  mow- 
ing machine  with  a  cut  bar  six  feet  long,  and  a  plow 
which  would  turn  two  furrows. 

"That's  what  we  need  on  these  prairies,"  said  Sam- 
son. "Something  that'll  turn  'em  over  and  cut  the 
crop  quicker." 

"Say,  I'll  tell  ye,"  said  Brimstead  as  if  about  to  dis- 
close another  secret.  "I  found  after  I  looked  the 
ground  over  here  that  I  needed  a  brain.  I  began  to 
paw  around  an'  discovered  a  rusty  old  brain  among 
my  tools.  It  hadn't  been  used  for  years.  I  cleaned 
an'  oiled  the  thing  an'  got  it  workin'.  On  a  little 
Vermont  farm  you  could  git  along  without  it  but 
here  the  ground  yells  for  a  brain.  We  don't  know 
how  to  use  our  horses.  They  have  power  enough  tQ 
do  all  the  hard  work,  if  we  only  knew  how  to  put 
it  into  wheels  and  gears.  We  must  begin  to  work  our 
brains  as  well  as  our  muscles  on  a  farm  miles  long 
an'  wide." 

"It  ain't  fair  to  expect  the  land  to  furnish  all  the 
fertility,"  said  Samson 

Brimstead's  face  glowed  as  he  outlined  his  vision : 

"These  great  stretches  of  smooth,  rich  land  just 
everlastingly  ram  the  spurs  into  you  and  keep  your 
brain  galloping.  Mine  is  goin'  night  and  day.  The 
prairies  are  a  new  thing  and  you've  got  to  tackle  'em 
in  a  new  way.  I  tell  you  the  seeding  and  planting 
and  mowing  and  reaping  and  threshing  is  all  going  to 


223 

be  done  by  machinery  and  horses.  The  wheel  will  be 
the  foundation  of  the  new  era." 

"You're  right,"  said  Samson. 

"How  are  you  gettin'  along?" 

"Rather  slow,"  Samson  answered.  "It's  hard  to 
get  our  stuff  to  market  down  in  the  Sangamon  coun- 
try. Our  river  isn't  navigable  yet.  We  hope  that 
Abe  Lincoln,  who  has  just  been  elected  to  the  Legis- 
lature, will  be  able  to  get  it  widened  and  straightened 
and  cleaned  up  so  it  will  be  of  some  use  to  us  down 
there." 

"I've  heard  of  him.  They  call  him  Honest  Abe, 
don't  they?" 

"Yes ;  and  he  is  honest  if  a  man  ever  was." 

"That's  the  kind  we  need  to  make  our  laws,"  said 
Mrs.  Brimstead.  "There  are  not  many  men  who  get 
a  reputation  for  honesty.  It  ought  to  be  easy,  but  it 
isn't." 

"Men  are  pretty  good  in  the  main,"  said  Samson. 
"But  ye  know  there  are  not  so  many  who  can  exactly 
toe  the  mark.  They  don't  know  how  or  they're  too  busy 
or  something.  I  guess  I'm  a  little  careless,  and  I  don't 
believe  I'm  a  bad  fellow  either.  Abe's  conscience  don't 
ever  sit  down  to  rest.  He  traveled  three  miles  one 
night  to  give  back  four  cents  that  he  had  overcharged 
a  customer.  I'd  probably  have  waited  to  have  her 
come  back,  and  by  that  time  it  might  have  slipped  my 
mind  or  maybe  she  would  have  moved  away.  I  sup- 


224  'A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

pose  that  in  handling  dollars  we're  mostly  as  honest 
as  Abe,  but  we're  apt  to  be  a  little  careless  with  the 
cents.  Abe  toed  the  penny  mark,  and  that's  how  he 
got  his  reputation.  The  good  God  has  given  him  a 
sense  of  justice  that  is  like  a  chemist's  balance.  It  can 
weigh  down  to  a  fraction  of  a  grain.  Now  he  don't 
care  much  about  pennies.  He  can  be  pretty  reckless 
with  'em.  But  when  they're  a  measure  on  the  balance, 
he  counts  'em  careful,  I  can  tell  ye." 

"Say,  I'll  tell  ye,"  said  Brimstead.  "Honesty  is 
like  Sapington's  pills.  There's  nothing  that's  so  well 
recommended.  It  has  a  great  many  friends.  But 
Honesty  has  to  pay  prompt.  We  don't  trust  it  long. 
It  has  poor  credit.  When  we  have  to  give  a  dollar's 
worth  of  work  to  correct  an  error  of  four  cents,  we're 
apt  to  decide  that  Honesty  don't  pay.  But  that's  when 
it  pays  best  We've  heard  the  jingle  o'  them  four 
cents  'way  up  here  in  Tazewell  County,  an'  long  be- 
fore you  told  us.  They  say  he's  a  smart  talker  an' 
that  he  can  split  ye  wide  open  laughin'." 

"He's  a  great  story-teller,  but  that's  a  small  part  of 
him,"  said  Samson.  "He's  a  kind  of  a  four  horse 
team.  He  knows  more  than  any  man  I  ever  saw  and 
can  tell  it  and  he  can  wrestle  like  old  Satan  and  swing 
a  scythe  or  an  axe  all  day  an'  mighty  supple.  He's 
one  of  us  common  folks  and  don't  pretend  to  be  a  bit 
better.  He  is,  though,  and  we  know  it,  but  I  don't 
think  he  knows  it." 

"Say,  there  ain't  many  of  us  smart  enough  to  keep 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  225 

that  little  piece  of  ignorance  in  our  heads,"  said  Brim- 
stead.  "It's  worth  a  fortune,  now — ain't  it?" 

"Is  he  going  to  marry  the  Rutledge  girl?"  was  the 
query  of  Mrs.  Brimstead. 

"I  don't  think  so,"  Samson  answered,  a  little  sur- 
prised at  her  knowledge  of  the  attachment.  "He's  as 
humly  as  Sam  Hill  and  dresses  rough  and  ain't  real 
handy  with  the  gals.  Some  fellers  are  kind  o'  fenced 
in  with  humliness  and  awkwardness." 

Brimstead  expressed  his  private  opinion  in  a  clearly 
audible  whisper:  "Say,  that  kind  o'  protection  is 
better'n  none.  A  humly  boy  don't  git  tramped  on 
an'  nibbled  too  much." 

Annabel  and  Harry  sat  in  a  corner  playing  checkers. 
They  seemed  to  be  much  impressed  by  the  opinion  of 
Mr.  Brimstead.  For  a  moment  their  game  was  for- 
gotten. 

"That  boy  has  a  way  with  the  gals,"  Samson 
laughed.  "There's  no  such  fence  around  either  of 
them." 

"They're  both  liable  to  be  nibbled  some,"  said 
Brimstead. 

"I  like  to  see  'em  have  a  good  time,"  said  his  wife. 
"There  are  not  many  boys  to  play  with  out  here." 

"The  boys  around  here  are  all  fenced  in,"  said  Anna- 
bel. "There's  nobody  here  of  my  age  but  Lanky 
Peters,  who  looks  like  a  fish,  and  a  red-headed  Irish 
boy  with  a  wooden  leg." 

"Say,  she's  like  a  woodpecker  in  a  country  where 


226  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

there  ain't  any  trees,"  said  Brimstead,  in  his  confiden- 
tial tone. 

"No  I'm  not,"  the  girl  answered.  "A  woodpecker 
has  wings  and  the  right  to  use  them." 

"Cheer  up.  A  lot  of  people  will  be  moving  in  here 
this  spring — more  boys  than  you  could  shake  a  stick 
at,"  Mrs.  Brimstead  remarked,  cheerfully. 

"If  I  shake  any  stick  at  them,  it  will  be  a  stick  of 
candy,  for  fear  of  scaring  them  away,"  said  Annabel, 
with  a  laugh. 

Brimstead  said  to  Samson :  "Say,  I'll  tell  ye,  you're 
back  in  a  cove.  You  must  get  out  into  the  current." 

"And  give  the  young  folks  a  chance  to  play  checkers 
together,"  said  Samson. 

"Say,  I'll  tell  ye,"  said  Brimstead.  "This  country 
is  mostly  miles.  They  can  be  your  worst  enemy  unless 
you  get  on  the  right  side  of  'em.  Above  all,  don't  let 
'em  get  too  thick  between  you  an'  your  market.  When 
you  know  about  where  it  is,  keep  the  miles  behind  ye. 
Great  markets  will  be  springin'  up  in  the  North.  You'll 
see  a  big  city  growin'  on  the  southern  shore  of  Lake 
Michigan  before  long.  I  think  there  will  be  better 
markets  to  the  north  than  there  are  to  the  south  of  us." 

"By  jingo!"  Samson  exclaimed.  "Your  brain  i's 
about  as  busy  as  a  beehive  on  a  bright  summer  day." 

"Say,  don't  you  mention  that  to  a  livin'  soul,"  said 
Brimstead.  "My  brain  began  to  chase  the  rainbow 
when  I  was  a  boy.  It  drove  me  out  o'  Vermont  into 
the  trail  to  the  West  and  landed  me  in  Flea  Valley. 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  227 

Now  I'm  in  a  country  where  no  man's  dreams  are 
goin'  to  be  big  enough  to  keep  up  with  the  facts.  We're 
right  under  the  end  o'  the  rainbow  and  there's  a  pot  o' 
gold  for  each  of  us." 

"The  railroad  will  be  a  help  in  our  fight  with  the 
miles,"  said  Samson. 

"All  right.  You  get  the  miles  behind  ye  and  let 
the  land  do  the  waiting.  It  won't  hurt  the  land  any, 
but  you'd  be  spoilt  if  you  had  to  wait  twenty  years." 

The  Peasleys  arrived  and  the  men  and  women  spent 
a  delightful  hour  traveling  without  weariness  over  the 
long  trail  to  beloved  scenes  and  the  days  of  their 
youth.  Every  day's  end  thousands  were  going  east  on 
that  trail,  each  to  find  his  pot  of  gold  at  the  foot  of 
the  rainbow  of  memory. 

Before  they  went  to  bed  that  night  Brimstead  paid 
his  debt  to  Samson,  with  interest,  and  very  confiden- 
tially. 

At  daylight  in  the  morning  the  team  was  at  the 
door  ready  to  set  out  for  the  land  of  plenty.  As  Sam- 
son and  Harry  were  making  their  farewells,  Annabel 
asked  the  latter: 

"May  I  whisper  something  in  your  ear  ?" 

"I  was  afraid  you  wouldn't,"  he  said. 

He  bent  his  head  to  her  and  she  kissed  his  cheek  and 
ran  away  into  the  house. 

"That  means  come  again,"  she  called  from  the  door, 
with  a  laugh. 

"I  guess  I'll  have  to— to  get  even,"  he  answered. 


228  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

"That's  a  pretty  likely  girl,"  said  Samson,  as  they 
were  driving  away. 

"She's  as  handsome  as  a  picture." 

"She  is — no  mistake!"  Samson  declared.  "She's  a 
good-hearted  girl,  too.  You  can  tell  that  by  her  face 
and  her  voice.  She's  as  gentle  ?s  a  kitten,  and  about 
as  wide  awake  as  a  weasel." 

"I  don't  care  much  for  girls  these  days,"  Harry  an- 
swered. "I  guess  I'll  never  get  married." 

"Nonsense!  A  big,  strapping,  handsome  young 
feller  like  you,  only  twenty  years  old !  Of  course  you'll 
get  married." 

"I  don't  see  how  I'm  ever  going  to  care  much  for 
another  girl,"  the  boy  answered. 

"There  are  a  lot  o'  things  in  the  world  that  you  don't 
see,  boy.  It's  a  big  world  and  things  shift  around  a 
good  deal  and  some  of  our  opinions  are  apt  to  move 
with  the  wind  like  thistledown." 

It  was  a  long,  wearisome  ride  back  to  the  land  of 
plenty,  over  frozen  ground,  with  barely  an  inch  of 
snow  upon  it,  under  a  dark  sky,  with  a  chilly  wind 
blowing. 

"After  all,  it's  home,"  said  Samson,  when  late  in 
the  evening  they  saw  the  lighted  windows  of  the  cabin 
ahead.  When  they  had  put  out  their  horses  and  come 
in  by  the  glowing  fire,  Samson  lifted  Sarah  in  his  arms 
again  and  kissed  her. 

"I'm  kind  o'  silly,  mother,  but  I  can't  help  it — you 
look  so  temptin',"  said  Samson. 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  229 

"She  looks  like  an  angel,"  said  Harry,  as  he  im- 
proved his  chance  to  embrace  and  kiss  the  lady  of  the 
cabin. 

"The  wind  has  been  peckin'  at  us  all  day,''  said 
Samson.  "But  it's  worth  it  to  get  back  home  and 
see  your  face  and  this  blazin'  fire." 

"And  the  good,  hot  supper,"  said  Harry,  as  they 
sat  down  at  the  table. 

They  told  of  the  .Brimsteads  and  their  visit. 

"Well,  I  want  to  know!"  said  Sarah.  "Big  house 
and  plenty  o'  money !  If  that  don't  beat  all !" 

"That  oldest  girl  is  the  thing  that  beats  all,"  said 
Samson.  "She's  as  handsome  as  Birn." 

"I  suppose  Harry  fell  in  love  with,  her,"  Sarah  sug- 
gested, with  a  smile. 

"I've  lost  my  ability  to  fall  in  love,"  said  the  young 
man. 

"It  will  come  back — you  see,"  said  Sarah.  "I'm 
going  to  get  her  to  pay  us  a  visit  in  the  spring." 

Harry  went  out  to  feed  and  water  the  horses. 

"Did  you  get  along  all  right?"  Samson  asked. 

"Colonel  Lukins  did  the  chores  faithfully,  night  and 
morning,"  Sarah  answered.  "His  wife  helped  me  with 
the  sewing  yesterday.  She  talked  all  day  about  the 
'Colonel.'  Mrs.  Beach,  that  poor  woman  from  Ohio 
on  the  west  road  who  has  sent  her  little  girl  so  often 
to  borrow  tea  and  sugar,  came  to-day  and  wanted  to 
borrow  the  baby.  Her  baby  is  sick  and  her  breasts 
were  paining  her." 


CHAPTER  XIV 

IN  WHICH  ABE  RETURNS  FROM  VANDALIA  AND  IS  EN- 
GAGED TO  ANN,  AND  THREE  INTERESTING  SLAVES 
ARRIVE  AT  THE  HOME  OF  SAMSON  TRAYLOR,  WHO, 
WITH  HARRY  NEEDLES,  HAS  AN  ADVENTURE  OF 
MUCH  IMPORTANCE  ON  THE  UNDERGROUND  ROAD. 

AGAIN  spring  had  come.  The  great  meadows  were 
awake  and  full  of  color.  Late  in  April  their  green 
floor  was  oversown  with  golden  blossoms  lying  close 
to  the  warming  breast  of  the  earth.  Then  came  the 
braver  flowers  of  May  lifting  their  heads  to  the  sun- 
light in  the  lengthening  grasses — red  and  white  and 
pink  and  blue — and  over  all  the  bird  songs.  They 
seemed  to  voice  the  joy  in  the  'heart  of  man.  Sarah 
Traylor  used  to  say  that  the  beauty  of  the  spring  more 
than  paid  for  the  loneliness  of  the  winter. 

Abe  came  back  from  the  Legislature  to  resume  his 
duties  as  postmaster  and  surveyor.  The  evening  of 
his  arrival  he  went  to  see  Ann.  The  girl  was  in  poor 
health.  She  had  had  no  news  of  McNamar  since 
January.  Her  spirit  seemed  to  be  broken.  They 
walked  together  up  and  down  the  deserted  street  of 
the  little  village  that  evening.  Abe  told  her  of  his  life 
in  Vandalia  and  of  his  hopes  and  plans. 

"My  greatest  hope  is  that  you  will  feel  that  you  can 
230 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  231 

put  up  with  me/'  he  said.  "I  would  try  to  learn  how 
to  make  you  happy.  I  think  if  you  would  help  me  a 
little  I  could  do  it." 

."I  don't  think  I  am  worth  having,"  the  girl  an- 
swered. "I  feel  like  a  little  old  woman  these  days." 

"It  seems  to  me  that  you  are  the  only  one  in  the 
world  worth  having,"  said  Abe. 

"If  you  want  me  to,  I  will  marry  you,  Abe,"  said 
she.  "I  can  not  say  that  I  love  you,  but  my  mother 
and  father  say  that  I  would  learn  to  love  you,  and 
sometimes  I  think  it  is  true.  I  really  want  to  love 
you." 

They  were  on  the  bluff  that  overlooked  the  river  and 
the  deserted  mill.  They  were  quite  alone  looking  down 
at  the  moonlit  plains.  A  broken  sigh  came  from  the 
lips  of  the  tall  young  man.  He  wiped  his  eyes  with 
his  handkerchief.  He  took  her  hand  in  both  of  his 
and  pressed  it  against  his  breast  and  looked  down  into  • 
her  face  and  said : 

"I  wish  I  could  tell  you  what  is  in  my  heart  There 
are  things  this  tongue  of  mine  could  say,  but  not  that 
I  shall  show  you,  but  I  shall  not  try  to  tell  you.  Words 
are  good  enough  for  politics  and  even  for  the  religion 
of  most  men,  but  not  for  this  love  I  feel.  Only  in  my 
life  shall  I  try  to  express  it." 

He  held  her  hand  as  they  walked  on  in  silence  for  a 
moment. 

"About  a  year  from  now  we  can  be  married,"  he 
said.  "I  shall  be  able  to  take  care  of  you  then,  I 


232  A-  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

think.     Meanwhile  we  will  all  help  you  to  take  care  of 
yourself.     You  don't  look  well." 

She  kissed  his  cheek  and  he  kissed  hers  when  they 
parted  at  the  door  of  the  tavern. 

"I  am  sure  I  shall  love  you,"  she  whispered. 

"Those  are  the  best  words  that  ever  came  to  my 
ears,"  he  answered,  and  left  her  with  a  solemn  sense 
of  his  commitment. 

Soon  after  that  Abe  went  to  the  north  line  of  the 
county  to  do  some  surveying,  and  on  his  return,  in 
the  last  week  of  May,  came  out  for  a  talk  with  the 
Traylors. 

"I've  been  up  to  the  Kelsos'  home  and  had  a  won- 
derful talk  with  him  and  Brimstead,"  said  Abe.  "They 
have  discovered  each  other.  Kelso  lives  in  a  glorious 
past  and  Brimstead  in  a  golden  future.  They're  both 
poets.  Kelso  is  translating  the  odes  of  Pindar.  Brim- 
stead  is  constructing  the  future  of  Illinois.  They  laugh 
at  each  other  and  so  create  a  fairly  agreeable  present." 

"Did  you  see  Annabel  ?"  Harry  asked. 

"About  sixty  times  a  minute  while  I  was  there.  So 
pretty  you  can't  help  looking  at  her.  She's  coming 
down  to  visit  Ann,  I  hope.  If  you  don't  see  her  every 
day  she's  here,  I  shall  lose  my  good  opinion  of  you. 
It  will  be  a  sure  sign  that  your  eyes  don't  know  how 
to  enjoy  themselves." 

"We  shall  all  see  her  and  fall  in  love  with  her,  too, 
probably,"  said  Sarah. 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  233 


"She's  made  on  the  right  pattern  of  the  best 
rial,"  Abe  went  on.  "She's  full  of  fun  and  I  thought 
it  would  be  a  great  thing  for  Ann.  She  hasn't  had 
any  one  to  play  with  of  her  own  age  and  standing 
since  Bim  went  away.  I  was  thinking  of  Harry,  too. 
He  needs  somebody  to  play  with." 

"Much  obliged  !"  the  young  man  exclaimed.  "I  was 
thinking  that  I'd  have  to  take  a  trip  to  Springdale, 
myself." 

"I  knew  he'd  come  around,"  Sarah  laughed. 

But  all  unknown  to  these  good  people,  the  divinities 
were  at  that  moment  very  busy. 

That  was  the  26th  of  May,  1835,  a  date  of  much  im- 
portance in  the  calendar  of  the  Traylors.  It  had  been 
a  clear,  warm  day,  followed  by  a  cloudless,  starry 
night,  with  a  chilly  breeze  blowing.  Between  eleven 
and  twelve  o'clock  Sarah  and  Samson  were  awakened 
by  the  hoot  of  an  owl  in  the  dooryard.  In  a  moment 
they  heard  three  taps  on  a  window-pane.  They  knew 
what  it  meant.  Both  got  out  of  bed  and  into  their 
clothes  as  quickly  as  possible.  Samson  lighted  a  candle 
and  put  some  wood  on  the  fire.  Then  he  opened  the 
door  with  the  candle  in  his  hand.  A  stalwart,  good- 
looking  mulatto  man,  with  a  smooth  shaven  face,  stood 
in  the  doorway. 

"Is  the  coast  clear  ?"  he  whispered. 

"All  clear,"  Samson  answered,  in  a  low  tone. 

"I'll  be  back  in  a  minute,"  said  the  negro,  as  he 


234  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

'disappeared  in  the  darkness,  returning  presently  with" 
two  women,  both  very  black.  They  sat  down  in  the 
dim  light  of  the  cabin. 

"Are  you  hungry  ?"  Sarah  asked. 

"We  have  had  only  a  little  bread  and  butter  to-day, 
madame,"  said  the  mulatto,  whose  speech  and  man- 
ners were  like  those  of  an  educated  white  man  of  the 
South. 

"I'll  get  you  something,"  said  Sarah,  as  she  opened 
the  cupboard. 

"I  think  we  had  better  not  stop  to  eat  now, 
madame,"  said  the  negro.  "We  will  be  followed  and 
they  may  reach  here  any  minute." 

Harry,  who  had  been  awakened  by  the  arrival  of 
the  strangers,  came  down  the  ladder. 

"These  are  fugitive  slaves  on  their  way  north,"  said 
Samson.  "Take  them  out  to  the  stack.  I'll  bring 
some  food  in  a  few  minutes." 

Harry  conducted  them  to  their  hiding-place,  and 
when  they  had  entered  it,  he  brought  a  ladder  and 
opened  the  top  of  the  stack.  A  hooped  shaft  in  the 
middle  of  it  led  to  a  point  near  its  top  and  provided 
ventilation.  Then  he  crawled  in  at  the  entrance, 
through  which  Samson  passed  a  pail  of  food,  a  jug  of 
water  and  some  buffalo  hides.  Harry  sat  with  them 
for  a  few  moments  in  the  black  darkness  of  the  stack 
room  to  learn  whence  they  had  come  and  whither  they 
wished  to  go. 

"We  are   from   St.   Louis,   suh,"   the  mulatto  an- 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  235 

swered.  "We  are  on  our  way  to  Canada.  Our  next 
station  is  the  house  of  John  Peasley,  in  Tazewell 
County." 

"Do  you  know  a  man  of  the  name  of  Eliphalet 
Biggs  who  lives  in  St.  Louis?"  Harry  asked. 

"Yes,  suh;  I  see  him  often,  suh,"  the  negro  an- 
swered. 

"What  kind  of  a  man  is  he  ?" 

"Good  when  he  is  sober,  stih,  but  a  brute  when  he 
is  drunk." 

"Is  he  cruel  to  his  wife?" 

"He  beats  her  with  a  whip,  suh." 

"My  God!"  Harry  exclaimed.  "Why  don't  she 
leave  him?" 

"She  has  left  him,  suh.  She  is  staying  with  a 
friend.  It  has  been  hard  for  her  to  get  away.  She 
has  been  a  slave,  too." 

Harry's  voice  trembled  with  emotion  when  he  an- 
swered : 

"I  am  sure  that  none  of  her  friends  knew  how  she 
was  being  treated." 

"I  suppose  that  she  was  hoping  an'  praying,  suh, 
that  he  would  change." 

"I  think  that  one  of  us  will  take  you  to  Peasley's 
to-morrow  night,"  said  Harry.  "Meanwhile  I  hope 
you  get  a  good  rest." 

With  that  he  left  them,  filled  the  mouth  of  the  cave 
with  hay  and  went  into  the  house.  There  he  told  his 
good  friends  of  what  he  had  heard. 


236  rA  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

"I  shall  go  down  to  St.  Louis,"  he  said.  "I  read  in 
the  paper  that  there  was  a  boat  Monday." 

"The  first  thing  to  do  is  to  go  to  bed,"  said  Sarah. 
"There's  not  much  left  of  the  night." 

They  went  to  bed,  but  the  young  man  could  not 
sleep.  Bim  had  possession  of  his  heart  again.  In  a 
kind  of  half  sleep  he  got  the  notion  that  she  was 
sitting  by  his  bedside  and  trying  to  comfort  him.  Then 
he  thought  that  he  heard  her  singing  in  the  sweet 
voice  of  old: 

"Come  sit  yourself  down 
With  me  on  the  ground 
On  this  bank  where  the  primroses  grow. 
We  will  hear  the  fond  tale 
Of  the  sweet  nightingale, 
As  she  sings  in  the  valleys  below, 
As  she  sings  in  the  valleys  below." 

He  roused  himself  and  thought  that  he  saw  her 
form  receding  in  the  darkness. 

Fortunately,  the  spring's  work  was  finished  and 
there  was  not  much  to  be  done  next  day.  Samson 
went  to  "Colonel"  Lukins'  cabin  and  arranged  with 
him  and  his  wife  to  come  and  stay  with  Sarah  and 
made  other  preparations  for  the  journey  to  the  north. 
Soon  after  nightfall  they  put  their  guests  on  a  small 
load  of  hay,  so  that  they  could  quickly  cover  them- 
selves if  necessary,  and  set  out  for  Peasley's  farm.  As 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  237 

they  rode  along  Samson  had  a  frank  talk  with 
Harry. 

"I  think  you  ought  to  get  over  being  in  love  with 
Bim,"  he  said. 

"I've  told  myself  that  a  dozen  times,  but  it  don't 
do  any  good,"  said  the  boy. 

"She's  another  man's  wife  and  you  have  no  right 
to  love  her." 

"She's  another  man's  slave,  and  I  can't  stand  the 
thought  of  it,"  Harry  answered.  "If  she  was  happy 
I  could  mind  my  business  and  get  over  thinking  of 
her,  by  and  by,  maybe,  but  now  she  needs  a  friend, 
if  she  ever  did,  and  I  intend  to  do  what  I  can  for 
her." 

"Of  course,  we'll  all  do  what  we  can  for  her,"  said 
Samson.  "But  you  must  get  over  being  in  love  with 
a  married  woman." 

"If  a  man's  sister  were  in  such  trouble,  I  think  he'd 
have  the  right  to  help  her,  and  she's  more  than  a  sister 
to  me." 

"I'll  stand  with  you  on  the  sister  platform,"  said 
Samson. 

In  the  middle  of  the  night  they  stopped  by  a  stream 
of  water  to  feed  the  horses  and  take  a  bite  of  luncheon. 
The  roads  were  heavy  from  recent  rains  and  daylight 
came  before  they  could  make  their  destination.  At 
sunrise  they  stopped  to  give  their  horses  a  moment  to 
rest.  In  the  distance  they  could  see  Brimstead's  house 


238  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

and  the  harrowed  fields  around  it.  The  women  were 
lying  covered  by  the  hay ;  the  man  was  sitting  up  and 
looking  back  down  the  road. 

"They're  coming,"  he  exclaimed,  suddenly,  as  he 
got  under  the  hay. 

Samson  and  Harry  could  see  horsemen  following  at 
a  gallop  half  a  mile  or  so  down  the  road.  It  looked 
like  trouble,  for  at  that  hour  men  were  not  likely  to 
be  abroad  in  the  saddle  and  riding  fast  on  any  usual 
errand.  Our  friends  hurried  their  team  and  got  to 
Brimstead's  door  ahead  of  the  horsemen.  A  grove  of 
trees  screened  the  wagon  from  the  view  of  the  latter 
for  a  moment.  Henry  Brimstead  stood  in  the  open 
door. 

"Take  these  slaves  into  the  house  and  get  them  out 
of  sight  as  quick  as  you  can,"  said  Samson.  "There's 
going  to  be  a  quarrel  here  in  a  minute." 

The  slaves  slid  off  the  load  and  ran  into  the  house. 

This  was  all  accomplished  in  a  few  seconds.  The 
team  started  on  toward  Peasley's  farm  as  if  nothing 
had  happened,  with  Harry  and  Samson  standing  on 
the  load.  In  a  moment  they  saw,  to  their  astonish- 
ment, Biggs  and  a  colored  servant  coming  at  a  slow 
trot.  AVere  the  slaves  they  carried  the  property  of 
Biggs? 

"Stop  that  wagon,"  the  latter  shouted. 

Samson  kept  on,  turning  out  a  little  to  let  them  pass. 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  239 

"Stop  or  we'll  shoot  your  horses,"  Biggs  demanded. 

"They'll  have  to  pass  close  to  the  load,"  Harry- 
whispered.  "I'll  jump  on  behind  Biggs  as  he  goes  by." 

The  words  were  scarcely  out  of  his  mouth  when 
Harry  sprang  off  the  load,  catching  Biggs's  shoulders 
and  landing  squarely  on  the  rump  of  his  horse.  It  was 
a  rough  minute  that  followed.  The  horse  leaped  and 
reared  and  Biggs  lost  his  seat,  and  he  and  Harry  rolled 
to  the  ground  and  into  a  fence  corner,  while  the  horse 
ran  up  the  road,  with  the  pistols  in  their  holsters  on 
his  back.  They  rose  and  fought  until  Harry,  being 
quicker  and  stronger,  got  the  best  of  it.  The  slaver 
was  severely  punished.  The  negro's  horse,  frightened 
by  the  first  move  in  the  fracas,  had  turned  and  run 
back  down  the  road. 

Biggs  swore  bitterly  at  the  two  Yankees. 

'Til  have  you  dirty  suckers  arrested  if  there's  any 
law  in  this  state,"  he  declared,  as  he  stood  leaning 
against  the  fence,  with  an  eye  badly  swollen  and  blood 
streaming  from  his  nose. 

"I  suppose  you  can  do  it,"  said  Samson.  "But  first 
let's  see  if  we  can  find  your  horse.  I  think  I  saw  him. 
turn  i'n  at  the  house  above." 

Samson  drove  the  team,  while  Biggs  and  Harry 
walked  up  the  road  in  silence.  The  negro  followed 
in  the  saddle.  Peasley  had  caught  Biggs's  horse  and 
was  standing  at  the  roadside. 


240  A'  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

•«r 

"I  want  to  find  a  Justice  of  the  Peace,"  said  Biggs. 
"There's  one  at  the  next  house  above.    I'll  send  my 
boy  for  him,"  Peasley  answered. 

The  Justice  arrived  in  a  few  minutes  and  Biggs 
lodged  a  complaint  founded  on  the  allegation  that  his 
slaves  were  concealed  in  the  hay  on  Samson's  wagon. 
The  hay  was  removed  and  no  slaves  were  discovered. 

"I  suppose  they  left  my  niggers  at  the  house  below," 
said  Biggs  as  he  mounted  his  horse  and,  with  his  com- 
panion, started  at  a  gallop  in  the  direction  of  'Brim- 
stead's.  Samson  remained  with  Peasley  and  the 
Justice. 

"You  had  better  go  down  and  see  what  happens,"  he 
said  to  Harry.  "We'll  follow  you  in  a  few  minutes." 

So  Harry  walked  down  to  Brimstead's. 

He  found  the  square  house  in  a  condition  of 
panic.  Biggs  and  his  helper  had  discovered  the  mulatto 
and  his  wife  hiding  in  the  barn.  The  negroes  and  the 
children  were  crying.  Mrs.  Brimstead  met  Harry  out- 
side the  door. 

"What  are  we  to  do?"  she  asked,  tearfully. 

"Just  keep  cool,"  said  Harry.  "Father  Traylor  and 
Mr.  Peasley  will  be  here  soon." 

Biggs  and  his  companion  came  out  of  the  door  with 
Brimstead. 

"We  will  take  the  niggers  to  the  river  and  put  them 
on  a  boat,"  Biggs  was  saying. 

His  face  and  shirt  and  bosom  were  smeared  with 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  241 

blood.  He  asked  Mrs.  Brimstead  for  a  basin  of  water 
and  a  towel.  The  good  woman  took  him  to  the  wash- 
stand  and  supplied  his  needs. 

In  a  few  moments  Samson  and  Peasley  arrived,  with 
the  latter's  team  hitched  to  a  Conestoga  wagon. 

"Well,  you've  found  them,  have  you?"  Peasley 
asked. 

"They  were  here,  as  I  thought,"  said  Biggs. 

"Well,  the  Justice  says  we  must  surrender  the 
negroes  and  take  them  to  the  nearest  landing  for  you. 
We've  come  to  do  it." 

"It's  better  treatment  than  I  expected,"  Biggs  an- 
swered. 

"You'll  find  that  we  have  a  good  deal  of  respect  for 
the  law,"  said  Peasley. 

Biggs  and  his  friend  went  to  the  barn  for  their 
horses.  The  others  conferred  a  moment  with  the  two 
slaves  and  Mrs.  Brimstead.  Then  the  latter  went  out 
into  the  garden  lot  to  a  woman  in  a  sunbonnet  who 
was  working  with  a  hoe  some  fifteen  rods  from  the 
house.  Mrs.  Brimstead  seemed  to  be  conveying  a 
message  to  the  woman  by  signs.  Evidently  the  latter 
was  deaf  and  dumb. 

"That  is  the  third  slave,"  Brimstead  whispered.  "I 
don't  believe  they'll  discover  her." 

Soon  Peasley  and  Samson  got  into  the  wagon  with 
the  negroes  and  drove  away,  followed  by  the  two  horse- 
men. 


242  rAj  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

In  a  little  village  on  the  river  they  stopped  at  a  low 
frame  house.  A  woman  came  to  the  door. 

"Is  Freeman  Collar  here  ?"  Peasley  demanded. 

"He  is  back  in  the  garden,"  the  woman  answered. 

"Please  ask  him  to  come  here." 

In  a  moment  Collar  came  around  the  house  with  a 
"hoe  on  his  shoulder.  He  was  a  slim,  sandy  bearded, 
long-haired  man  of  medium  height,  with  keen  gray 
eyes. 

"Good  morning,  Mr.  Constable,"  said  Peasley. 
"This  is  Eliphalet  Biggs  of  St.  Louis,  and  here  is  a 
warrant  for  his  arrest." 

He  passed  a  paper  to  the  officer. 

"For  my  arrest!"  Biggs  exclaimed.  "What  is  the 
charge  ?" 

"That  you  hired  a  number  of  men  to  burn  the 
house  of  Samson  Henry  Traylor,  near  the  village  of 
New  Salem,  in  Sangamon  County,  and,  by  violence,  to 
compel  him  to  leave  said  county;  that,  on  the  2gth  of 
August,  said  men — the  same  being  eight  in  number 
— attempted  to  carry  out  your  design  and,  being  cap- 
tured and  overpowered,  all  confessed  their  guilt  and 
your  connection  with  it,  their  sworn  confessions  being 
now  in  the  possession  of  one  Stephen  Nuckles,  a 
minister  of  this  county.  I  do  not  need  to  remind  you 
that  it  is  a  grave  offense  and  likely  to  lead  to  your 
confinement  for  a  term  of  years." 

"Well,  by  G— ,"  Biggs  shouted,  in  anger.     "You 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  243 

suckers  will  have  some  traveling  to  do  before  you 
arrest  me." 

He  struck  the  spurs  in  his  horse  and  galloped 
away,  followed  by  his  servant.  Samson  roared  with 
laughter. 

"Now,  Collar,  get  on  your  horse  and  hurry  'em 
along,  but  don't  ketch  up  with  'em  if  you  can  help  it," 
said  Peasley.  "We've  got  them  on  the  run  now. 
They'll  take  to  the  woods  an'  be  darn  careful  to  keep 
out  of  sight." 

When  the  Constable  had  gone,  Peasley  said  to  Sam- 
son: "We'll  drop  these  slaves  at  Nate  Haskell's  door. 
He'll  take  care  of  'em  until  dark  and  start  'em  on  the 
north  road.  Late  in  the  evening  I'll  pick  'em  up  an' 
get  'em  out  o'  this  part  o'  the  country." 

Meanwhile  Brimstead  and  Harry  had  stood  for  a 
moment  in  the  dooryard  of  the  former,  watching  the 
party  on  its  way  up  the  road.  Brimstead  blew  out  his 
breath  and  said  in  a  low  tone : 

"Say,  I'll  tell  ye,  I  ain't  had  so  much  excitement 
since  Samson  Traylor  rode  into  Flea  Valley.  The 
women  need  a  chance  to  wash  their  faces  and  slick  up 
a  little.  Le's  you  and  me  go  back  to  the  creek  and  go 
in  swimmin'  an'  look  the  farm  over." 

"What  become  of  the  third  nigger  ?"  Harry  asked. 

"She  went  out  in  the  field  in  a  sunbonnet  an'  went 
to  work  with  a  hoe  and  they  didn't  discover  her,"  said 
Brimstead. 


244  'A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

"It  must  have  been  a  nigger  that  didn't  belong  to 
him,"  Harry  declared. 

"I  guess  it  was  one  that  the  others  picked  up  on  the 
road." 

They  set  out  across  the  sown  fields,  while  Brim- 
stead,  in  his  most  divulging  mood,  confided  many 
secrets  to  the  young  man.  Suddenly  he  asked: 

"Say,-  did  you  take  parti c'lar  notice  o*  that  yaller 
nigger?" 

"I  didn't  see  much  of  him." 

"Well,  I'll  tell  ye,  he  was  about  as  handsome  a  feller 
"as  you'd  see  in  a  day's  travel — straight  as  an  arrow 
and  about  six  feet  tall  and  well  spoken  and  clean  faced. 
He  told  me  that  another  master  had  taught  him  to 
read  and  write  and  cipher.  He's  read  the  Bible 
through,  and  many  of  the  poems  of  Scott  and  Byron 
and  Burns.  Don't  it  rile  ye  up  to  think  of  a  man 
like  that  bein'  bought  and  sold  and  pounded  around 
like  a  steer?  It  ain't  decent." 

"It's  king  work;  it  isn't  democracy,"  Harry  an- 
swered. "We've  got  to  put  an  end  to  it." 

"Say,  who's  that?"  Brimstead  asked,  as  he  pointed 
to  a  pair  of  horsemen  hurrying  down  the  distant  road. 

"It's  Biggs  and  his  servant,"  Harry  answered. 

"Whew!  They  ain't  lettin'  the  grass  grow  under 
their  feet.  They'll  kill  them  horses." 

"Biggs  is  a  born  killer.  I'd  like  to  give  him  one 
more  licking." 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  245 

In  a  moment  they  saw  another  horseman  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  behind  the  others  and  riding  fast. 

"Ha,  ha!  That  explains  their  haste,"  said  Brim- 
stead.  "It's  oT  Free  Collar  on  his  sorrel  mare.  Say, 
I'll  tell  ye,"  Brimstead  came  close  to  Harry  and  added 
in  a  low  tone:  "If  Biggs  tries  any  fightin'  business 
with  Collar  he'll  git  killed  sure.  That  man  loves  ex- 
citement. He  don't  take  no  nonsense  at  all,  and  he 
can  put  a  bullet  into  a  gimlet  hole  at  ten  rods." 

They  had  their  swim  in  the  creek  and  got  back  to 
the  house  at  dinner  time.  Samson  had  returned  and, 
as  they  sat  down  at  the  table,  he  told  what  had  hap- 
pened at  the  Constable's  house  and  learned  of  the  pass- 
ing of  Biggs  and  his  friend  in  the  road,  followed  by 
Collar  on  his  sorrel  mare. 

"We  must  hurry  back,  but  we  will  have  to  give  the 
horses  a  rest,"  said  Samson. 

"And  the  young  people  a  chance  to  play  checkers?" 
said  Mrs.  Brimstead. 

"I  have  no  heart  for  play,"  said  Annabel,  with  a 
sigh. 

"The  excitement  and  the  sight  o'  those  poor  slaves 
have  taken  all  the  fun  out  of  her,"  the  woman  re- 
marked. 

Then  Harry  asked:  "What  have  you  done  with 
the  third  slave?" 

"She's  been  up-stai'rs,  getting  washed  and  dressed," 
said  Mrs.  Brimstead. 


246  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

As  she  spoke,  the  stairway  door  opened  and  Bim 
entered  the  room — in  a  silk  gown  and  slippers.     Sor- 
row had  put  its  mark  upon  her  face,  but  had  not  ex- 
tinguished her  beauty.  All  rose  from  the  table.   Harry 
walked  toward  her.    She  advanced  to  meet  him.    Face 
to  face,  they  stopped  and  looked  into  each  other's  eyes. 
The  moment  long  desired,  the  moment  endeared  and 
sublimated  by  the  dreams  of  both,  the  moment  toward 
which  their  thoughts  had  been  wont  to  hasten,  after 
Ihe  cares  of  the  day,  like  brooks  coming  down  from 
the  mountains,  had  arrived  suddenly.     She  was  in  a 
way  prepared  for  it.     She  had  taken  thought  of  what 
she  would  do  and  say.    He  had  not.    Still  it  made  no 
difference.    This  little  point  of  time  had  been  so  filled 
with  the  power  which  had  flowed  into  it  out  of  their 
souls  there  was  no   foretelling  what  they  would  do 
when  it  touched  them.     Scarcely  a  second   of  that 
moment  was  wasted  in  hesitation,  as  a  matter  of  fact. 
Quickly  they  fell  into  each  other's  embrace,  and  the 
depth  of  their  feeling  we  may  guess  when  we  read  in 
the  diary  of  the  rugged  and  rather  stoical  Samson  that 
no  witness  of  the  scene  spoke  or  moved  "until  I  turned 
my  back  upon  it  for  shame  of  my  tears." 

Soon  Bim  came  and  kissed  Samson's  cheek  and 
said: 

"I  am  not  going  to  make  trouble.  I  couldn't  help 
this.  I  heard  what  he  said  to  you  last  night.  It  made 
me  happy  in  spite  of  all  my  troubles.  I  love  him  but 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  247 

above  all  I  shall  try  to  keep  his  heart  as  clean  and  noble 
as  it  has  always  been.  I  really  meant  to  be  very  strong 
and  upright.  It  i's  all  over  now.  Forgive  us.  We 
are  going  to  be  as  respectable  as — as  we  can." 

Samson  pressed  her  hand  and  said : 

"You  came  with  the  slaves  and  I  guess  you  heard 
our  talk  in  the  wagon." 

"Yes,  I  came  with  the  slaves,  and  was  as  black  as 
either  of  them.  We  had  all  suffered.  I  should  have 
come  alone,  but  they  had  been  good  and  faithful  to 
me.  I  could  not  bear  to  leave  them  to  endure  the 
violence  of  that  man.  We  left  together  one  night 
when  he  was  in  a  drunken  stupor.  We  took  a  boat 
to  Alton  and  caught  The  Star  of  the  North  to  Beards- 
town — they  traveling  as  my  servants.  There  I  hired 
a  team  and  wagon.  It  brought  us  to  the  grove  near 
your  house." 

"Why  did  you  disguise  yourself  before  you  came 
in?" 

"I  longed  to  see  Harry,  but  I  did  not  want  him  to 
see  me.  I  did  not  know  that  he  would  care  to  see 
me,"  she  answered.  "I  longed  to  see  all  of  you." 

"Isn't  that  like  Bim?"  Samson  asked. 

"I  am  no  longer  the  fool  I  was,"  she  answered.  "It 
was  not  just  a  romantic  notion.  I  wanted  to  share  the 
lot  of  a  runaway  slave  for  a  few  days  and  know  what 
it  means.  That  mulatto — Roger  Wentworth — and  his 
wife  are  as  good  as  I  am,  but  I  have  seen  them  kicked 


248  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

and  beaten  like  dogs.  I  know  slavery  now  and  all 
the  days  of  my  life  I  am  going  to  fight  against  it. 
Now  I  am  ready  to  go  to  my  father's  house — like  the 
Prodigal  Son  coming  back  after  his  folly." 

"But  you  will  have  some  dinner  first,"  said  Mrs. 
Brimstead. 

"No,  I  can  not  wait — I  will  walk.  It  is  not  far  to 
Springdale." 

"Percy  is  at  the  door  now  with  his  buggy,"  said 
Brimstead. 

Bim  kissed  Samson's  cheek  and  embraced  Annabel 
and  her  mother  and  hurried  out  of  the  house.  Harry 
carried  her  bag  to  the  buggy  and  helped  her  in. 

"Harry,  I  want  you  to  fall  in  love  with  this  pretty 
girl,"  she  said.  "Don't  you  dare  think  of  me  any 
more  or  come  near  me.  If  you  do,  I'll  shoo  you  away. 
Go  on,  Percy." 

She  waved  her  hand  as  the  buggy  went  up  the  road. 

"It's  the  same  old  Bim,"  Harry  said  to  himself,  as 
he  stood  watching  her.  "But  I  think  she's  lovelier 
than  she  ever  was." 

The  next  day  Samson  wrote  in  his  diary: 

"Bim  was  handsomer,  but  different.  She  had  a 
woman's  beauty.  I  noticed  her  loose  clothes  and  that 
gentle  look  in  her  face  that  used  to  come  to  Sarah's 
when  her  time  was  about  half  over.  I  am  glad  she 
got  away  before  she  was  further  along." 


WHEREIN  HARRY  AND  ABE  RIDE  UP  TO  SPRINGDALE  AND 
VISIT  KELSO'S  AND  LEARN  OF  THE  CURIOUS  LONE- 
SOMENESS  OF  ELIPHALET  BIGGS. 

ILLINOIS  was  growing1.  In  June  scores  of  prairie 
schooners,  loaded  with  old  and  young,  rattled  over  the 
plains  from  the  East.  There  were  many  Yankees  from 
Ohio,  New  York  and  New  England  in  this  long 
caravan.  There  were  almost  as  many  Irish,  who  had 
set  out  for  this  land  of  golden  promise  as  soon  as  they 
had  been  able  to  save  money  for  a  team  and  wagon, 
after  reaching  the  new  world.  There  were  some  Ger- 
mans and  Scandinavians  in  the  dust  clouds  of  the 
National  Road.  Steamers  on  the  Illinois  River  scat- 
tered their  living  freight  along  its  shores.  These  were 
largely  from  Kentucky,  southern  Ohio,  Pennsylvania, 
Maryland  and  Virginia.  The  call  of  the  rich  and 
kindly  lands  had  traveled  far  and  streams  of  life 
were  making  toward  them,  to  flow  with  increasing 
speed  and  volume  for  many  years. 

People  in  Sangamon  County  had  begun  to  learn  of 
the  thriving  village  of  Chicago  in  the  North.  Abe  said 
that  Illinois  would  be  the  Empire  State  of  the  West; 

249 


350  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

that  a  new  era  of  rapid  development  and  great  pros- 
perity was  near.  Rumors  of  railroad  and  canal 
projects  and  river  improvements  were  on  every  tongue. 
Samson  and  Sarah  took  new  heart  of  the  prospect  and 
decided  to  try  another  year  in  New  Salem,  although  an 
Irishman  had  made  a  good  offer  for  their  farm.  Land 
was  in  great  request  and  there  were  many  transfers 
of  title.  Abe  had  more  surveying  to  do  than  he  was 
able  to  accomplish  that  summer.  Harry  was  with  him 
'for  some  weeks.  He  could  earn  two  dollars  a  day 
with  Abe,  whereas  Samson  was  able  to  hire  a  helper 
for  half  that  sum.  Harry  made  a  confident  of  his 
friend,  and  when  they  were  working  at  the  northern 
end  of  the  county  they  borrowed  a  pair  of  horses  and 
rode  up  to  Kelso's  house  and  spent  a  Sunday  there. 

Bim  met  them  down  the  road  a  mile  or  so  from 
Springdale.  She,  too,  was  on  the  back  of  a  horse. 
She  recognized  them  before  they  were  in  hailing  dis- 
tance and  waved  her  hand  and  hurried  toward  them 
with  a  happy  face. 

"Where  are  you  going?"  she  asked. 

"To  see  you  and  your  father  and  mother,"  said 
Harry. 

A  sad  look  came  into  her  eyes. 

"If  I  had  a  stone  I  would  throw  it  at  you,"  she 
said. 

"Why?"  Harry  asked. 

"Because  I  have  to  get  used  to  being  miserable,  and 
just  as  I  begin  to  be  resigned  to  it,  you  come  along 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  251 

and  make  me  happy,  and  I  have  it  all  to  do  over 
again." 

The  young  man  stopped  his  horse. 

"I  hadn't  thought  of  that,"  he  said,  with  a  sad  face. 
"It  isn't  fair  to  you,  is  it?  It's  rather — selfish." 

"Why  don't  you  go  to  Brimstead's,"  Bim  suggested. 
"A  beautiful  girl  over  there  is  in  love  with  you.  Hon- 
estly, Harry,  there  isn't  a  sweeter  girl  in  all  the  world." 

"I  ought  not  to  go  there,  either,"  said  the  young 
man. 

"Why?" 

"Because  I  mustn't  let  her  think  that  I  care  for  her. 
I'll  go  over  to  Peasley's  and  wait  for  Abe  there." 

"Look  here,"  said  the  latter.  "You  both  remind  me 
of  a  man  in  a  Kentucky  village  who  couldn't  bear  to 
hear  a  rooster  crow.  It  kept  him  awake  nights,  for 
the  roosters  did  a  lot  o'  crowing  down  there.  He 
moved  from  one  place  to  another,  trying  to  find  a 
cockless  town.  He  couldn't.  There  was  no  such 
place  in  Kentucky.  He  thought  of  taking  to  the 
woods,  but  he  hated  loneliness  more  than  he  hated 
roosters.  So  he  did  a  sensible  thing.  He  started  a 
chicken  farm  and  got  used  to  it.  He  found  that  a 
little  crowing  was  too  much,  and  that  a  lot  of  it  was 
just  what  he  needed.  You  two  have  got  to  get  used 
to  each  other.  What  you  need  is  more  crowing.  If 
you  saw  each  other  every  day  you  wouldn't  look  so 
wonderful  as  when  you  don't." 

"I  reckon  that's  a  good  idea,"  said  Bim.    "Come  on, 


252  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

Harry,  let's  get  used  to  crowing.  We'll  start  in  to- 
day to  fall  out  of  love  with  each  other.  We  must  be 
very  cold  and  distant  and  haughty  and  say  every  mean 
thing  we  can  think  of." 

So  it  happened  that  Harry  went  on  with  Bim  and 
Abe  to  the  little  house  in  Springdale.  Jack  Kelso  sat 
reading  in  the  shade  of  a  tree  by  his  door-step. 

"I  hope  you  feel  as  good  as  you  look,"  Abe  called, 
as  they  rode  up. 

"I've  been  feeling  like  a  fly  in  a  drum,"  Jack  an- 
swered. "I've  just  heard  a  sermon  by  Peter  Cart- 
wright." 

"What  do  you  think  of  him?" 

"He  is  saturated  in  the  statistics  of  vice.  His  Satan 
is  too  busy ;  his  hell  is  too  big,  too  hot  and  too  durable. 
He  is  a  kind  of  human  onion  designed  to  make  women 
weep." 

Abe  answered  with  a  laugh: 

"It  is  said  that  General  Jackson  went  into  his  church 
one  Sunday  and  that  a  deacon  notified  Mr.  Cartwright 
of  the  presence  of  the  great  man.  They  say  that  the 
stern  preacher  exclaimed  in  a  clearly  audible  tone: 
'General  Jackson!  What  does  God  care  for  General 
Jackson?  If  he  don't  repent,  God  will  damn  him  as 
quick  as  he  would  damn  a  Guinea  nigger.' ' 

"He's  just  that  thumping,  downright  kind  of  a 
man,"  Kelso  remarked.  "How  are  you  getting  on 
with  the  books  ?" 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  253 

"I  have  Parsons  on  Contracts  strapped  to  the  pom- 
mel," said  Abe..  ''I  did  my  stint  coming  over,  but  I 
had  to  walk  and  lead  the  pony." 

"Every  book  you  read  gets  a  baptism  of  Democ- 
racy," said  Kelso.  "An  idle  aristocracy  of  the  shelves 
loafing  in  fine  coats  and  immaculate  linen  is  not  for 
the  wise  man.  Your  book  has  to  roll  up  its  sleeves 
and  go  to  work  and  know  the  touch  of  the  sweaty 
hand.  Swift  used  to  say  that  seme  men  treat  books 
as  they  do  Lords — learn  their  titles  and  then  brag  of 
having  been  in  their  company.  There  are  no  Lords 
and  Ladies  among  your  books.  They  are  just  men 
and  women  made  for  human  service." 

"I  don't  read  long  at  once,"  Abe  remarked.  "I 
scratch  into  a  book,  like  a  hen  on  a  barn  floor,  until 
my  crop  is  full,  and  then  I  digest  what  I  have  taken." 

Harry  and  Bim  had  put  out  the  horses.  Now  the 
girl  came  and  sat  on  her  father's  knee.  Harry  sat 
down  by  the  side  of  Abe  on  the  grass  in  the  oak's 
shadow. 

"It  is  a  joy  to  have  the  little  girl  back  again,"  said 
Kelso,  as  he  touched  her  hair  with  his  hand.  "It  is 
still  as  yellow  as  a  corn  tassel.  I  wonder  it  isn't  gray." 

"Her  eyes  look  as  bright  as  ever  to-day,"  said  Harry. 

"No  compliments,  please.  I  want  you  to  be  down- 
right mean,"  Bim  protested. 

Kelso  looked  up  with  a  smile:  "My  boy,  it  was 
Leonardo  da  Vinci  who  said  that  a  man  could  have 


254  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

neither  a  greater  nor  a  less  dominion  than  that  over 
himself." 

"What  a  cruel-looking  villain  he  is  !"Bim  exclaimed, 
with  a  smile.  "I  wouldn't  dare  say  what  I  think  of 
him." 

"If  you  keep  picking  on  me  I'll  cut  loose  and  ex- 
press my  opinion  of  you,"  he  retorted. 

"Your  opinions  have  ceased  to  be  important,"  she 
answered,  with  a  look  of  indifference. 

"I  think  this  is  a  clear  case  of  assault  and  flattery," 
said  Kelso. 

"It  pains  me  to  look  at  you,"  Bim  went  on. 

"Wait  until  I  learn  to  play  the  flute  and  the  snare 
drum,"  Harry  threatened. 

"I'm  glad  that  New  Salem  is  so  far  away,"  she 
sighed. 

"I'll  go  and  look  at  the  new  moon  through  a  knot 
hole,"  he  laughed. 

"My  dears,  no  more  of  this  piping,"  said  Kelso. 
"Bim  must  tell  us  what  she  has  learned  of  the  great 
evil  of  slavery.  It  is  most  important  that  Abe  should 
hear  it." 

Bim  told  of  revolting  scenes  she  had  witnessed  in 
St.  Louis  and  New  Orleans — of  flogging  and  buying 
and  selling  and  herding.  It  was  a  painful  story,  the 
like  of  which  had  been  traveling  over  the  prairies  of 
Illinois  for  years.  Some  had  accepted  these  reports; 
many,  among  whom  were  the  most  judicious  men,  had 
thought  they  detected  in  them  the  note  of  gross  exag- 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  255 

geration.  Here,  at  last,  was  a  witness  whose  word  it 
was  impossible  for  those  who  knew  her  to  doubt.  Abe 
put  many  questions  and  looked  very  grave  when  the 
testimony  was  all  in. 

"If  you  have  any  doubt,"  said  Bim,  "I  ask  you  to 
look  at  that  mark  on  my  arm.  It  was  made  by  the 
whip  of  Mr.  Eliphalet  Biggs." 

The  young  men  looked  with  amazement  at  a  scar 
some  three  or  four  inches  long  on  her  forearm. 

"If  he  would  do  that  to  his  wife,  what  treatment 
could  you  expect  for  his  niggers  ?"  Bim  asked.  "There 
are  many  Biggses  in  the  South." 

"What  so  vile  as  a  cheap,  rococo  aristocracy — grow- 
ing up  in  idleness,  too  noble  to  be  restrained,  with 
every  brutal  passion  broad  blown  as  flush  as  May?" 
Kelso  growled. 

"Nothing  is  long  sacred  in  the  view  of  any  aris- 
tocracy— not  even  God,"  Abe  answered.  "They  make 
a  child's  plaything  of  Him  and  soon  cast  Him  aside." 

"But  I  hold  that  if  our  young  men  are  to  be  trained 
to  tyranny  in  a  lot  of  little  nigger  kingdoms,  our  De- 
mocracy will  die." 

Abe  made  no  answer.  He  was  always  slow  to  com- 
mit himself. 

"The  North  is  partly  to  blame  for  what  has  come," 
said  Samson.  "I  guess  our  Yankee  captains  brought 
over  most  of  the  niggers  and  sold  them  to  the  planters 
of  the  South." 

"There  was  a  demand  for  them,  or  those  Yankee 


256  'A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

pirates  wouldn't  have  brought  the  niggers,"  Harry 
answered.  "Both  seller  and  buyer  were  committing  a 
crime." 

"They  established  a  great  wrong  and  now  the  South 
is  pushing  to  extend  and  give  it  the  sanction  of  law," 
said  Abe.  "There  is  the  point  of  irritation  and 
danger." 

"I  hear  that  in  the  next  Legislature  an  effort  will  be 
made  to  endorse  slavery,"  said  Kelso.  "It  would  be 
like  endorsing  Nero  and  Caligula." 

"It  is  a  dangerous  subject,"  Abe  answered.  "What- 
ever happens,  I  shall  not  fail  to  express  my  opinion  of 
slavery  if  I  go  back." 

"The  time  is  coming  when  you  will  take  the  bull 
by  the  horns,"  said  Kelso.  "There's  no  fence  that 
will  keep  him  at  home." 

"I  hope  that  isn't  true,"  Abe  answered. 

Soon  Mrs.  Kelso  called  Bim  to  set  the  table.  She 
and  Harry  brought  it  out  under  the  tree,  where,  in 
the  cool  shade,  they  had  a  merry  dinner. 

When  the  dishes  were  put  away  Percy  Brimstead 
arrived  with  his  sister  Annabel  in  their  buggy.  Bim 
went  out  to  meet  them  and  came  into  the  dooryard 
with  her  arm  around  Annabel's  waist. 

"Did  any  one  ever  see  a  lovelier  girl  than  this?" 
Bim  asked,  as  they  stood  up  before  the  dinner  party. 

"Her  cheeks  are  like  wild  roses,  her  eyes  like  the 
dew  on  them  when  the  sun  is  rising,"  said  Kelso. 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  257 

"But  look  at  her  mouth  and  the  teeth  in  it  the  next 
time  she  smiles,"  Bim  went  on. 

"Aye,  they  are  well  wrought,"  her  father  an- 
swered. 

"If  you  don't  stop,  I  shall  run,"  Annabel  pro- 
tested. 

"I  haven't  said  a  word,  but  I  want  you  to  know  that 
I  am  deeply  impressed,"  said  Harry.  "No  girl  has  a 
right  to  be  as  handsome  as  you  are  and  come  and  look 
into  the  face  of  a  young  man  who  has  resolved  to  look 
at  the  new  moon  through  a  knot  hole." 

"Well,  who  would  have  thought  it!"  Bim  exclaimed. 
"Such  a  wonderful  compliment,  and  from  Harry 
Needles!" 

"Of  course  he  didn't  mean  it,"  said  Annabel,  whose 
cheeks  were  now  very  red. 

"Of  course  I  mean  it,"  Harry  declared.  "That's 
why  I  keep  away  from  your  house.  I  am  bound  to 
stay  single." 

"Did  you  ever  see  a  fairy  going  to  mill  on  a  butter- 
fly's back  ?"  Bim  asked,  looking  at  Harry. 

"Not  as  I  remember,"  he  answered. 

"If  you  had,  you  wouldn't  expect  us  to  believe  it," 
Bim  asserted. 

"There  was  a  soldier  in  Colonel  Taylor's  regiment 
who  always  ran  when  the  enemy  was  in  sight,"  Abe 
began.  "When  he  was  brought  up  for  discipline,  he 
said  'My  heart  is  as  brave  as  Julius  Caesar's,  but  my 


258  A;  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

legs  can't  be  trusted.'  I  know  Harry's  legs  are  all 
right,  but  I  don't  believe  his  heart  can  be  trusted  in  a 
battle  of  this  kind." 

"I've  heard  all  about  his  brave  adventures  in  the 
war,"  said  Bim.  "He'll  find  that  girls  are  worse  than 
Indians." 

"If  they're  as  well  armed  as  you  two,  I  guess  you're 
right,"  said  Samson. 

Abe  rose  and  said :  "The  day  is  passing.  I'll  start 
on  with  Parsons  and  the  pony  and  read  my  stint  afoot. 
You  come  along  in  a  few  minutes.  By  the  time  you 
overtake  me  I'll  be  ready  to  get  into  the  saddle." 

Half  an  hour  or  so  after  Abe  had  gone,  Harry's 
horse,  which  had  been  whinnying  for  his  mate, 
bounded  out  of  the  stable  and  went  galloping  down 
the  road,  having  slipped  his  halter. 

"He  will  not  stop  until  he  overtakes  the  other  horse," 
said  Harry. 

"You  can  ride  with  us,"  Annabel  suggested. 

So  the  young  man  brought  his  saddle  and  bridle  and 
put  it  under  the  seat  of  the  buggy  and  got  in  with 
Annabel  and  her  small  brother. 

"Don't  let  us  go  too  far,"  said  Bim,  as  she  stood  by 
the  side  of  the  buggy.  "You  haven't  offered  to  shake 
hands." 

"It  was  a  deliberate  slight — just  to  please  you," 
Harry  answered,  as  they  shook  hands. 

"You  are  behaving  terribly  well,"  Bim  exclaimed, 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  259 

merrily.  "Now,  Annabel,  here  is  your  chance  to  con- 
vert him." 

She  laughed  and  shook  her  hand,  as  they  rode  away, 
and  went  into  the  house  and  sat  down  and  for  a  time 
was  like  one  whose  heart  is  broken. 

"Oh,  the  troubles  of  the  young!"  her  mother  ex- 
claimed, as  she  kissed  her. 

"They  are  ever  the  wonder  of  the  old!"  said  Kelso, 
who  stood  near. 

"I  love  him !    I  love  him !"  the  girl  moaned. 

"I  don't  wonder,"  her  father  answered.  "He  is  a 
big,  brave,  clean  lad,  and  handsome  as  a  Greek  god. 
He  will  love  you  all  the  better  for  your  self-restraint 
It  makes  me  proud  of  you,  my  daughter — proud  of 
you !  Be  of  good  cheer.  The  day  of  your  emancipa- 
tion may  not  be  long  delayed." 

Some  two  miles  down  the  road  Harry  found  Abe 
standing  between  the  horses,  holding  the  runaway  by 
his  forelock.  The  latter  was  saddled  and  bridled, 
while  the  buggy  went  on  ahead. 

"That  is  a  wonderful  girl,"  said  Harry,  as  he  and 
Abe  were  riding  along  together.  "She  is  very  modest 
and  gentle  hearted." 

"And  as  pleasant  to  look  at  as  the  flowery 
meadows,"  Abe  answered. 

"I  have  promised  to  stop  there  a  few  minutes  on 
our  way  back." 

"It  is  possible  Bim  could  get  a  divorce,"  said  Abe, 


260  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

looking  down  thoughtfully  at  the  mane  of  his  horse. 
"I'll  ask  Stuart  what  he  thinks  about  it  when  I  see 
him  again." 

"I  hope  you'll  see  him  soon." 

"As  soon  as  I  can  get  to  Springfield." 

Brimstead  and  Abe  had  a  talk  together,  while  Harry 
went  into  the  house. 

"Say,  there's  a  good  many  kinds  o'  trouble,"  said 
the  former,  in  a  low  tone,  "but  one  o'  the  worst  is 
skunks.  Say,  I'll  tell  ye,  there's  a  feller  lives  over  in 
the  woods  a  few  miles  from  here  that  had  a  skunk  in 
a  pen.  His  name  is  Hinge.  Somebody  had  been 
stealin'  his  grain,  so  the  other  night  he  hitched  that 
skunk  right  under  the  barn  door.  The  thief  came  and 
the  skunk  punished  him  tolerable  severe.  The  next 
day  Free  Collar,  the  famous  Constable,  was  comin' 
up  the  road  from  Sangamon  County  and  met  that  man 
Biggs  on  a  horse.  Say — " 

Brimstead  looked  about  him  and  stepped  close  to 
Abe  and  added  in  a  tone  of  extreme  confidence:  "Biggs 
had  left  a  streak  behind  him  a  mile  long.  Its  home 
was  Biggs.  It  had  settled  down  and  gone  into  busi- 
ness on  him  and  was  doin'  well  and  gettin'  a  reputa- 
tion. Collar  coughed  and  backed  away.  For  four 
days  he  had  been  chasin'  that  man  to  arrest  him.  Biggs 
had  been  hid  in  the  woods  near  Hinge's  cabin  an' 
had  stole  grain  for  his  horses. 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  261 

"  'Here  I  am,'  said  Biggs.  'You  can  have  me.  I'm 
lonesome.' 

"  'You'll  be  lonesomer  'fore  I  go  near  ye,'  says 
Collar. 

"  'I  thought  you  wanted  to  arrest  me/  says  Biggs. 

"  'Say,  man,  I'd  'a'  been  glad  to  see  you  go  to  prison 
for  a  year  or  two,  but  now  I'm  plum  sorry  for  ye,' 
says  Collar.  'A  constable  who  wouldn't  run  if  he 
smelt  you  comin'  would  be  a  durn  fool.' 

"They  started  in  opposite  directions.  In  half  a 
minute  the  Constable  hollered  to  Biggs: 

"  'Say,  they've  got  a  railroad  train  on  a  track  over 
in  Ohio,  but  they  can't  make  it  run.  I  wouldn't  won- 
der if  you  could  help  'em.' ' 

Brimstead  added  in  a  half  whisper : 

"Biggs  went  on,  but  the  poor  devil  is  livin'  a  God 
lonesome  life.  He  can't  sleep  in  a  buildin'  an'  his 
food'll  have  to  be  throwed  to  him.  It's  a  new  way  to 
defeat  justice." 

Abe's  laughter  was  like  the  neigh  of  a  horse.  It 
brought  Harry  out  of  the  house.  He  mounted  his 
pony  and,  as  they  rode  away,  Abe  told  him  of  the 
fate  of  Biggs. 

"I  don't  believe  he'll  take  another  Illinois  girl  away 
with  him,"  Abe  laughed. 

"Talk  about  the  chains  of  bondage!  He's  buried  in 
'em,"  Harry  exclaimed. 


262  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

In  a  moment  he  said :  "That  lovely  girl  gave  me  a 
necktie  and  a  pair  of  gloves  that  she  has  knit  with  her 
own  hands.  I'll  never  forget  the  way  she  did  it  and 
the  look  of  her.  It  rather  touched  my  heart." 

"She's  as  innocent  as  a  child,"  said  Abe.  "It's  hard 
on  a  girl  like  that  to  have  to  live  in  this  new  country. 
Her  father  and  mother  have  promised  to  let  her  come 
for  a  visit  with  Ann.  I'll  go  up  next  Saturday  and 
take  her  down  to  New  Salem  with  me." 

This  kindly  plan  of  Abe's — so  full  of  pleasant  pos- 
sibilities— fell  into  hopeless  ruin  next  day,  when  a 
letter  came  from  Dr.  Allen,  telling  him  that  Ann  was 
far  gone  with  a  dangerous  fever.  Both  Abe  and  Harry 
dropped  their  work  and  went  home.  Ann  was  too 
sick  to  see  her  lover. 

The  little  village  was  very  quiet  those  hot  summer 
days.  The  sorrow  of  the  pretty  maiden  had  touched 
the  hearts  of  the  simple  kindly  folk  who  lived  there. 
They  would  have  helped  her  bear  it — if  that  had  been 
possible — as  readily  as  they  would  have  helped  at  a 
raising.  For  a  year  or  more  there  had  been  a  tender 
note  in  their  voices  when  they  spoke  of  Ann.  They 
had  learned  with  great  gladness  of  her  engagement  to 
marry  Abe.  The  whole  community  were  as  one  family 
with  its  favorite  daughter  about  to  be  crowned  with 
good  fortune  greater  than  she  knew.  Now  that  she 
was  stricken  down,  their  feeling  was  more  than  sym- 
pathy. The  love  of  justice,  the  desire  to  see  a  great 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  263 

wrong  righted,  in  a  measure,  was  in  their  hearts  when 
they  sought  news  of  the  little  sufferer  at  the  tavern. 

There  was  no  shouting  in  the  street,  no  story-telling 
in  the  dooryards,  no  jesting  in  the  stores  and  houses, 
no  merry  parties,  gladdened  by  the  notes  of  the  violin, 
in  the  days  and  nights  of  Ann's  long  illness. 

Samson  writes  in  his  diary  that  Abe  went  about  like 
a  man  in  a  dream,  with  no  heart  for  work  or  study. 
He  spent  much  time  at  the  Doctor's  office,  feeling  for 
some  straw  of  hope. 

One  day  late  in  August,  as  he  stood  talking  with 
Samson  Traylor  in  the  street,  Dr.  Allen  called  him 
from  his  door-step.  Abe  turned  very  pale  as  he  obeyed 
the  summons. 

"I've  just  come  from  her  bedside,"  said  Dr.  Allen. 
"She  wants  to  see  you.  I've  talked  it  over  with  her 
parents,  and  we've  decided  to  let  you  and  her  have  a 
little  visit  together.  You  must  be  prepared  for  a  great 
change  in  Ann.  There's  not  much  left  of  the  poor  girl. 
A  breath  would  blow  her  away.  But  she  wants  to  see 
you.  It  may  be  better  than  medicine.  Who  knows  ?" 

The  two  men  went  across  to  the  tavern.  Mrs.  Rut- 
ledge  and  Abe  tiptoed  up  the  stairway.  The  latter 
entered  the  room  of  the  sick  girl.  The  woman  closed 
the  door.  Ann  Rutledge  was  alone  with  her  lover. 
There  were  none  who  knew  what  happened  in  that 
solemn  hour  save  the  two — one  of  whom  was  on  the 
edge  of  eternity,  and  the  other  was  never  to  speak  of  it. 


264  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

The  only  record  of  that  hour  is  to  be  found  in  the 
face  and  spirit  of  a  great  man. 
Years  later  Samson  wrote  in  a  letter. 

"I  saw  Abe  when  he  came  out  of  the  tavern  that 
day.  He  was  not  the  Abe  we  had  all  known.  He  was 
different.  There  were  new  lines  in  his  face.  It  was 
sorrowful.  His  steps  were  slow.  He  had  passed  out 
of  his  young  manhood.  When  I  spoke  to  him,  he 
answered  with  that  gentle  dignity  now  so  familiar  to 
all  who  know  him.  From  that  hour  he  was  Abraham 
Lincoln." 

Ann  passed  away  before  the  month  ended  and  be- 
came, like  many  of  her  kind,  an  imperishable  memory. 
In  her  presence  the  spirit  of  the  young  man  had  re- 
ceived such  a  baptism  that  henceforward,  taking 
thought  of  her,  he  was  to  love  purity  and  all  clean- 
ness, and  no  Mary  who  came  to  his  feet  with  tears  and 
ointment  was  ever  to  be  turned  away. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

WHEREIN  YOUNG  MR.  LINCOLN  SAFELY  PASSES  TWO 
GREAT  DANGER  POINTS  AND  TURNS  INTO  THE  HIGH- 
WAY OF  HIS  MANHOOD. 

FOR  days  thereafter  the  people  of  New  Salem  were 
sorely  troubled.  Abe  Lincoln,  the  ready  helper  in 
time  of  need,  the  wise  counselor,  the  friend  of  all — 
"old  and  young,  dogs  and  horses,"  as  Samson  was 
wont  to  say — the  pride  and  hope  of  the  little  cabin- 
village,  was  breaking  down  under  his  grief.  He 
seemed  to  care  no  more  for  work  or  study  or  friend- 
ship. He  wandered  out  in  the  woods  and  upon  the 
prairies  alone.  Many  feared  that  he  would  lose  his 
reason. 

There  was  a  wise  and  merry-hearted  man  who  lived 
a  mile  or  so  from  the  village.  His  name  was  Bowlin 
Green.  Every  one  on  Salem  Hill  and  in  the  country 
round  about  it  laid  claim  to  the  friendship  of  this  re- 
markable man.  Those  days  when  one  of  middle  age 
had  established  himself  in  the  affections  of  a  com- 
munity, its  members  had  a  way  of  adopting  him.  So 
Mr.  Green  had  been  adopted  into  many  families  from 

265 


266  rA  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

Beardstown  to  Springfield.  He  was  everybody's 
"Uncle  Bowlin."  He  had  a  most  unusual  circumfer- 
ence and  the  strength  to  carry  it.  He  was  indeed  a 
man  of  extended  boundaries,  embracing  noble  gifts, 
the  best  of  which  was  good  nature.  His  jests,  his  loud 
laughter  and  his  quaking  circumference  were  the  three 
outstanding  factors  in  his  popularity.  The  loss  of 
either  would  have  been  a  misfortune  to  himself  and 
neighbors.  His  ruddy  cheeks  and  curling  locks  and 
kindly  dark  eyes  and  large  head  were  details  of  im- 
portance. Under  all  were  a  heart  with  the  love  of 
men,  a  mind  of  unusual  understanding  and  a  hand 
skilled  in  all  the  arts  of  the  Kentucky  pioneer.  He 
could  grill  a  venison  steak  and  roast  a  grouse  and  broil 
a  chicken  in  a  way  which  had  filled  the  countryside 
with  fond  recollections  of  his  hospitality;  he  could 
kindle  a  fire  with  a  bow  and  string,  a  pine  stick  and 
some  shavings ;  he  could  make  anything  from  a  splint 
broom  to  a  rocking  horse  with  his.  jack-knife.  Abe 
Lincoln  was  one  of  the  many  men  who  knew  and  loved 
him. 

On  a  warm,  bright  afternoon  early  in  September, 
Bowlin  Green  was  going  around  the  pasture  to  put 
his  fence  in  repair,  when  he  came  upon  young  Mr. 
Lincoln.  The  latter  sat  in  the  shade  of  a  tree  on  the 
hillside.  He  looked  "terribly  peaked,"  as  Uncle  Bowlin 
has  said  in  a  letter. 

"Why,  Abe,  where  have  you  been?"  he  asked.   "The 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  267 

whole  village  is  scared.  Samson  Traylor  was  here 
last  night  lookin'  for  ye." 

"I'm  like  a  deer  that's  been  hurt,"  said  the  young 
man.  "I  took  to  the  woods.  Wanted  to  be  alone. 
You  see,  I  had  a  lot  of  thinking  to  do — the  kind  of 
thinking  that  every  man  must  do  for  himself.  I've  got 
the  brush  cleared  away,  at  last,  so  I  can  see  through. 
I  had  made  up  my  mind  to  go  down  to  your  house  for 
the  night  and  was  trying  to  decide  whether  I  have 
energy  enough  to  do  it." 

"Come  on;  it's  only  a  short  step,"  urged  the  big- 
hearted  Bowlin.  "The  wife  and  babies  are  over  to 
Beardstown.  We'll  have  the  whole  place  to  ourselves. 
The  feather  beds  are  ladder  high.  I've  got  a  haunch 
^of  venison  buried  in  the  hide  and  some  prairie  chickens 
that  I  killed  yesterday,  and,  besides,  I'm  lonesome." 

"What  I  feel  the  need  of,  just  now,  is  a  week  or 
two  of  sleep,"  said  Mr.  Lincoln,  as  he  rose  and  started 
down  the  long  hill  with  his  friend. 

Some  time  later  Bowlin  Green  gave  Samson  this 
brief  account  of  what  happened  in  and  about  the 
cabin : 

"He  wouldn't  eat  anything.  He  wanted  to  go  down 
to  the  river  for  a  dip,  and  I  went  with  him.  When 
we  got  back,  I  induced  him  to  take  off  his  clothes  and 
get  into  bed.  He  was  fast  asleep  in  ten  minutes.  When 
night  came  I  went  up  the  ladder  to  bed.  He  was  still 
asleep  when  I  came  down  in  the  morning.  I  went  out 


268  'A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

and  did  my  chores.  Then  I  cut  two  venison  steaks, 
each  about  the  size  o'  my  hand,  and  a  half  moon  of 
bacon.  I  pounded  the  venison  to  pulp  with  a  little 
salt  and  bacon  mixed  in.  I  put  it  on  the  broiler  and 
over  a  bed  o'  hickory  coals.  I  got  the  coffee  into  the 
pot  and  up  next  to  the  fire  and  some  potatoes  in  the 
ashes.  I  basted  a  bird  with  bacon  strips  and  put  it 
into  the  roaster  and  set  it  back  o'  the  broiling  bed. 
Then  I  made  some  biscuits  and  put  'em  into  the  oven. 
I  tell  you,  in  a  little  while  the  smell  o'  that  fireplace 
would  have  'woke  the  dead — honest!  Abe  began  to 
stir.  In  a  minute  I  heard  him  call : 

"  'Say,  Uncle  Bowlin,  I'm  goin'  to  get  up  an'  eat 
you  out  o'  house  and  home.  I'm  hungry  and  I  feel 
like  a  new  man.  What  time  is  it  ?' 

"  'It'll  be  nine  o'clock  by  the  time  you're  washed  and 
dressed,'  I  says. 

"  'Well,  I  declare,'  says  he,  'I've  had  about  sixteen 
hours  o'  solid  sleep.  The  world  looks  better  to  me 
this  morning.' 

"He  hurried  into  his  clothes  and  we  sat  down  at 
the  table  with  the  steak  and  the  chicken  and  some  wild 
grape  jelly  and  baked  potatoes,  with  new  butter  and 
coffee  and  cream  and  hot  biscuit  and  clover  honey,  and 
say,  we  both  et  till  we  was  ashamed  of  it. 

"At  the  table  I  told  him  a  story  and  got  a  little 
laugh  out  of  him.  He  stayed  with  me  three  weeks, 
choring  around  the  place  and  taking  it  easy.  He  read 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  269 

all  the  books  I  had,  until  you  and  Doc  Allen  came 
with  the  law  books.  Then  he  pitched  into  them.  I 
think  he  has  changed  a  good  deal  since  Ann  died.  He 
talks  a  lot  about  God  and  the  hereafter." 

In  October  young  Mr.  Lincoln  returned  to  his  sur- 
veying, and  in  the  last  month  of  the  year  to  Vandalia 
for  an  extra  session  of  the  Legislature,  where  he  took 
a  stand  against  the  convention  system  of  nominating 
candidates  for  public  office.  Samson  went  to  Vandalia 
for  a  visit  with  him  and  to  see  the  place  before  the 
session  ended.  The  next  year,  in  a  letter  to  his  brother, 
he  says : 

"Vandalia  is  a  small,  crude  village.  It  has  a  strong 
flavor  of  whisky,  profanity  and  tobacco.  The  night 
after  I  got  there  I  went  to  a  banquet  with  Abe  Lincoln. 
Heard  a  lot  about  the  dam  nigger-loving  Yankees  who 
were  trying  to  ruin  the  state  and  country  with  aboli- 
tion. There  were  some  stories  like  those  we  used  to 
hear  in  the  lumber  camp,  and  no  end  of  powerful  talk, 
in  which  the  names  of  God  and  the  Savior  were 
roughly  handled.  A  few  of  the  statesmen  got  drunk, 
and  after  the  dinner  was  over  two  of  them  jumped 
on  the  table  and  danced  down  the  whole  length  of  it, 
shattering  plates  and  cups  and  saucers  and  glasses. 
Nobody  seemed  to  be  able  to  stop  them.  I  hear  that 
they  had  to  pay  several  hundred  dollars  for  the  dam- 
age done.  You  will  be  apt  to  think  that  there  is  too 
much  liberty  here  in  the  West,  and  perhaps  that  is  so, 
but  the  fact  is  these  men  are  not  half  so  bad  as  they 
seem  to  be.  Lincoln  tells  me  that  they  are  honest 


270  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

almost  to  a  man  and  sincerely  devoted  to  the  public 
good  as  they  see  it.  I  asked  Abe  Lincoln,  who  all 
his  life  has  associated  with  rough  tongued,  drinking 
men,  how  he  had  managed  to  hold  his  own  course  and 
keep  his  talk  and  habits  so  clean. 

:  'Why,  the  fact  is,'  said  he,  'I  have  associated  with 
the  people  who  lived  around  me  only  part  of  the  time, 
but  I  have  never  stopped  associating  with  myself  and 
with  Washington  and  Clay  and  Webster  and  Shake- 
speare and  Burns  and  DeFoe  and  Scott  and  Blackstone 
and  Parsons.  On  the  whole,  I've  been  in  pretty  good 
company.' 

"He  has  not  yet  accomplished  much  in  the  Legis- 
lature. I  don't  think  that  he  will  until  some  big  issue 
comes  along.  'I'm  not  much  of  a  hand  at  hunting 
squirrels/  he  said  to  me  the  other  day.  'Wait  till  I  see 
a  bear.'  The  people  of  Vandalia  and  Springfield  have 
never  seen  him  yet.  They  don't  know  him  as  I  do. 
But  they  all  respect  him — just  for  his  good  fellow- 
ship, honesty  and  decency.  I  guess  that  every  fellow 
with  a  foul  mouth  hates  himself  for  it  and  envies  the 
man  who  isn't  like  him.  They  begin  to  see  his  skill 
as  a  politician,  which  has  shown  itself  in  the  passage 
of  a  bill  removing  the  capitol  to  Springfield.  Abe  Lin- 
coln was  the  man  who  put  it  through.  But  he  has  not 
yet  uncovered  his  best  talents.  Mark  my  word,  some 
day  Lincoln  will  be  a  big  man. 

"The  death  of  his  sweetheart  has  aged  and  sobered 
him.  When  we  are  together  he  often  sits  looking  down 
with  a  sad  face.  For  a  while  not  a  word  out  of  him. 
Suddenly  he  will  begin  saying  things,  the  effect  of 
which  will  go  with  me  to  my  grave,  although  I  can  not 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  271 

call  back  the  words  and  place  them  as  he  did.  He  is 
what  I  would  call  a  great  Captain  of  words.  Seems 
as  if  I  heard  the  band  playing  while  they  march  by 
me  as  well  dressed  and  stepping  as  proud  and  regular 
as  The  Boston  Guards.  In  some  great  battle  between 
Right  and  Wrong  you  will  hear  from  him.  I  hope 
it  may  be  the  battle  between  Slavery  and  Freedom, 
although  at  present  he  thinks  they  must  avoid  coming 
to  a  clinch.  In  my  opinion,  it  can  not  be  done.  I  ex- 
pect to  live  to  see  the  fight  and  to  take  part  in  it." 

Late  in  the  session  of  1836-1837  the  prophetic  truth 
of  these  words  began  to  reveal  itself.  A  bill  was  be- 
ing put  through  the  Legislature  denouncing  the  growth 
of  abolition  sentiment  and  its  activity  in  organized  so- 
cieties and  upholding  the  right  of  property  in  slaves. 

Suddenly  Lincoln  had  come  to  a  fork  in  the  road. 
Popularity,  the  urge  of  many  friends,  the  counsel  of 
Wealth  and  Power,  and  Public  Opinion,  the  call  of 
good  politics  pointed  in  one  direction  and  the  crowd 
went  that  way.  It  was  a  stampede.  Lincoln  stood 
alone  at  the  corner.  The  crowd  beckoned,  but  in 
vain.  One  man  came  back  and  joined  him.  It  was 
Dan  Stone,  who  was  not  a  candidate  for  re-election. 
His  political  career  was  ended.  There  were  three 
words  on  the  sign-board  pointing  toward  the  perilous 
and  lonely  road  that  Lincoln  proposed  to  follow.  They 
were  the  words  Justice  and  Human  Rights.  Lincoln 
and  Dan  Stone  took  that  road  in  a  protest,  declaring 


272  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

that  they  "believed  the  institution  of  slavery  was 
founded  upon  injustice  and  bad  policy."  Lincoln  had 
followed  his  conscience,  instead  of  the  crowd. 

At  twenty-eight  years  of  age  he  had  safely  passed 
the  great  danger  point  in  his  career.  The  declaration 
at  Decatur,  the  speeches  against  Douglas,  the  miracle 
of  turning  4,000,000  beasts  into  4,000,000  men,  the 
sublime  utterance  at  Gettysburg,  the  wise  parables,  the 
second  inaugural,  the  innumerable  acts  of  mercy,  all 
of  which  lifted  him  into  undying  fame,  were  now  pos- 
sible. Henceforth  he  was  to  go  forward  with  the 
growing  approval  of  his  own  spirit  and  the  favor  of 
God. 


BOOK  THREE 
CHAPTER  XVII 

WHEREIN  YOUNG  MR.  LINCOLN  BETRAYS  IGNORANCE. 
OF  TWO  HIGHLY  IMPORTANT  SUBJECTS,  IN  CONSE- 
QUENCE OF  WHICH  HE  BEGINS  TO  SUFFER  SERIOUS 
EM  BARRASSMENT. 

THERE  were  two  subjects  of  which  Mr.  Lincoln  had 
little  understanding.  They  were  women  and  finance. 
Up  to  this  time  his  tall,  awkward,  ill  clad  figure  had 
been  a  source  of  amusement  to  those  unacquainted 
with  his  admirable  spirit.  Until  they  had  rightly  ap- 
praised the  value  of  his  friendship,  women  had  been 
wont  to  regard  him  with  a  riant  curiosity.  He  had 
been  aware  of  this,  and  for  years  had  avoided  women, 
save  those  of  old  acquaintance.  When  he  lived  at  the 
tavern  in  the  village  often  he  had  gone  without  a  meal 
rather  than  expose  himself  to  the  eyes  of  strange 
women.  The  reason  for  this  was  well  understood  by 
those  who  knew  him.  The  young  man  was  an  ex- 
ceedingly sensitive  human  being.  No  doubt  he  had 
suffered  more  than  any  one  knew  from  ill  concealed 
ridicule,  but  he  had  been  able  to  bear  it  with  com- 

273 


274  &  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

posure  in  his  callow  youth.  Later  nothing  roused  his 
anger  like  an  attempt  to  ridicule  him.  No  man  who 
came  in  his  way  in  after  life  was  so  quickly  and  com- 
pletely floored  as  one  George  Forquer,  who,  in  a 
moment  of  folly,  had  attempted  to  make  light  of  him. 

Two  women  he  had  regarded  with  great  tenderness 
— his  foster  mother,  the  second  wife  of  Thomas  Lin- 
coln, and  Ann  Rutledge.  Others  had  been  to  him, 
mostly,  delightful  but  inscrutable  beings.  The  com- 
pany of  women  and  of  dollars  had  been  equally  un- 
familiar to  him.  He  had  said  more  than  once  in  his 
young  manhood  that  he  felt  embarrassed  in  the  pres- 
ence of  either,  and  knew  not  quite  how  to  behave  him- 
self— an  exaggeration  in  which  there  was  no  small 
amount  of  truth. 

In  1836  the  middle  frontier  had  entered  upon  a 
singular  phase  of  its  development.  Emigrants  from 
the  East  and  South  and  from  overseas  had  been  pour- 
ing into  it.  The  summer  before  the  lake  and  river 
steamers  had  been  crowded  with  them,  and  their 
wagons  had  come  in  long  processions  out  of  the  East. 
Chicago  had  begun  its  phenomenal  growth.  A  frenzied 
speculation  in  town  lots  had  been  under  way  in  that 
community  since  the  autumn  of  '35.  It  was  spreading 
through  the  state.  Imaginary  cities  were  laid  out  on 
the  lonely  prairies  and  all  the  corner  lots  sold  to  eager 
buyers  and  paid  for  with  promises.  Fortunes  of 
imaginary  wealth  were  created  by  sales  of  future 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  275 

greatness.  Millions  of  conversational,  promissory  dol- 
lars, based  upon  the  gold  at  the  foot  of  the  rainbow, 
were  changing  hands  day  by  day.  The  Legislature, 
with  an  empty  treasury  behind  it,  voted  twelve  mil- 
lions for  river  improvements  and  imaginary  railroads 
and  canals,  for  which  neither  surveys  nor  estimates 
had  been  made,  to  serve  the  dream-built  cities  of  the 
speculator.  If  Mr.  Lincoln  had  had  more  experience 
in  the  getting  and  use  of  dollars  and  more  acquaintance 
with  the  shrinking  timidity  of  large  sums,  he  would 
have  tried  to  dissipate  these  illusions  of  grandeur. 
But  he  went  with  the  crowd,  every  member  of  which 
had  a  like  inexperience. 

In  the  midst  of  the  session  Samson  Traylor  arrived 
in  Vandalia  on  his  visit  to  Mr.  Lincoln. 

"I  have  sold  my  farm,"  said  Samson  to  his  old 
friend  the  evening  of  his  arrival. 

"Did  you  get  a  good  price?"  Mr.  Lincoln  asked. 

"All  that  my  conscience  would  allow  me  to  take," 
said  Samson.  "The  man  offered  me  three  dollars  an 
acre  in  cash  and  ten  dollars  in  notes.  We  compro- 
mised on  seven  dollars,  all  cash." 

"It's  a  mistake  to  sell  now.  The  river  is  going  to  be 
deepened  and  improved  for  navigation." 

"I've  made  up  my  mind  that  it  can't  be  done,  unless 
you  can  invent  a  way  to  run  a  steamboat  on  moist 
ground,"  said  Samson.  "You  might  as  well  try  to 
make  a  great  man  out  of  'Colonel  Lukins.'  It  hasn't 


276  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

the  water-shed.  To  dig  a  deep  channel  for  the  Sanga- 
mon  would  be  like  sending  'Colonel  Lukins'  to  Har- 
vard. We're  going  too  fast.  We  have  little  to  sell 
yet  but  land.  The  people  are  coming  to  us  in  great 
numbers,  but  most  of  them  are  poor.  We  must  give 
them  time  to  settle  down  and  create  something  and 
increase  the  wealth  of  the  state.  Then  we  shall  have 
a  solid  base  to  build  upon ;  then  we  shall  have  the  con- 
fidence of  the  capital  we  require  for  improvements. 
Now  I  fear  that  we  are  building  on  the  sands." 

"Don't  you  think  that  our  bonds  would  sell  in  the 
East?" 

"No;  because  we  have  only  used  our  lungs  in  all 
these  plans  of  ours.  No  one  has  carefully  considered 
the  cost.  For  all  we  know,  it  may  cost  more  than 
the  entire  wealth  of  the  state  to  put  through  the  im- 
provements already  planned.  The  eastern  capitalists 
will  want  to  know  about  costs  and  security.  Un- 
doubtedly Illinois  is  sure  to  be  a  great  state.  But 
we're  all  looking  at  the  day  of  greatness  through  a 
telescope.  It  seems  to  be  very  near.  It  isn't.  It's  at 
least  ten  years  in  the  future." 

Young  Mr.  Lincoln  looked  very  grave  for  a  moment. 
Then  he  laughed  and  said :  "I  don't  know  but  we're 
all  a  lot  of  fools.  I  begin  to  suspect  myself.  The 
subject  of  finance  is  new  to  me.  I  don't  know  much 
about  it,  but  I'm  sure  if  I  were  to  say  what  you  have 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  277 

said,   in  the   House  of   Representatives,   they   would 
throw  me  out-of-doors." 

"Just  at  present  the  House  is  a  kind  of  insane 
asylum,"  said  Samson.  "You'll  have  to  stick  to  the 
procession  now.  The  road  is  so  crowded  that  nobody 
can  turn  around.  The  folly  of  the  state  is  so  unani- 
mous no  one  will  be  more  to  blame  than  another  when 
the  crash  comes.  You  have  meant  well,  anyhow." 
"You  make  me  feel  young  and  inexperienced." 
"You  are  generally  wise,  Abe,  but  there's  one  thing 
you  don't  know — that's  the  use  of  capital.  For  two 
years  Sarah  and  I  have  been  studying  the  subject  of 
finance." 

"I've  seen  too  little  of  you  in  the  last  year  or 'so," 
said  the  young  statesman.  "What  are  you  going  to 
do  now  that  you  have  sold  out?" 

"I  was  thinking  of  going  up  to  Tazewell  County." 
"Why  don't  you  go  to  the  growing  and  prosperous 
town  of  Springfield,"  Mr.  Lincoln  asked.  "The  cap- 
itol  will  be  there,  and  so  will  I.  It  is  going  to  be  a  big 
city.  Men  who  are  to  make  history  will  live  in  Spring- 
field. You  must  come  and  help.  The  state  will  need 
a  man  of  your  good  sense.  It  would  be  a  great  com- 
fort to  me  to  have  you  and  Sarah  and  Harry  and  the 
children  near  me.  I  shall  need  your  friendship,  your 
wisdom  and  your  sympathy.  I  shall  want  to  sit  often 
by  your  fireside.  You'll  find  a  good  school  there  for 


278  'A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

the  children.     If  you'll  think  of  it  seriously,  I'll  try 
to  get  you  into  the  public  service." 

"We  need  you  plenty,"  Samson  answered.  "We 
kind  o'  think  o'  you  as  one  o'  the  family.  I'll  talk  it 
over  with  Sarah  and  see.  Never  mind  the  job.  If  I 
keep  you  behavin'  yourself,  it'll  be  job  enough.  Any- 
way, I  guess  we  can  manage  to  get  along.  Sarah's 
uncle  in  Boston  died  last  month  and  left  her  a  little 
money.  If  we  can  get  what  we  have  well  invested,  all 
I  shall  need  will  be  a  few  acres  and  a  few  tools  and 
some  friends  to  swap  stories  with." 

"I've  had  a  talk  with  Stuart  and  have  some  good 
news  for  Harry  and  Bim,"  said  young  Mr.  Lincoln. 
"Stuart  thinks  she  can  get  a  divorce  under  the  law  of 
1827.  I  suppose  they  are  still  interested  in  each  other." 

"He's  like  most  of  the  Yankees.  Once  he  gets  set, 
it's  hard  to  change  him.  The  Kelsos  have  moved  to 
Chicago,  and  I  don't  know  how  Bim  stands.  If  Harry 
knows,  he  hasn't  said  a  word  to  us  about  it." 

"I'm  interested  in  that  little  romance,"  said  the 
legislator.  "It's  our  duty  to  do  what  we  can  to  secure 
the  happiness  of  these  young  lovers.  We  mustn't 
neglect  that  in  the  pressure  of  other  things.  They  and 
their  friends  are  dear  to  me.  Tell  Harry  to  come 
'over  here.  I  want  to  talk  with  him." 

This  dialogue  was  about  the  last  incident  in  the  visit 
of  Samson  Traylor. 

Late  in  the  historic  session  of  that  spring,  wherein 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  279 

the  Whigs  adopted  the  convention  system  of  nomina- 
tions and  many  plans  were  made  for  the  expenditure 
of  visionary  millions,  young  Mr.  Lincoln  received  a 
letter  from  his  friend,  Mrs.  Bennet  Able  of  New 
Salem,  which  conveyed  a  shock  to  his  nerves.  Before 
he  had  gone  to  the  session,  Mrs.  Able  had  said  to  him 
lightly : 

"Abe,  I'll  ask  my  sister  Mary  to  come  up  here  for 
a  visit  if  you'll  agree  to  marry  her." 

"All  right,"  the  young  man  had  answered  playfully. 

He  remembered  Mary.  When  he  had  left  Kentucky, 
years  before,  Mary — a  slender,  sweet-faced  girl — had 
been  one  of  those  who  bade  him  good-by. 

The  letter  had  said  among  other  things :  "Mary  has 
come,  and  now  we  expect  you  to  keep  your  word." 

No  knight  of  old  had  a  keener  sense  of  chivalry 
than  the  young  statesman  of  Salem  Hill.  It  was  al- 
most as  Quixotic  as  the  excesses  at  which  Cervantes 
aimed  his  ridicule.  An  appalling  fear  took  possession 
of  him — a  fear  that  Mrs.  Able  and  the  girl  had  taken 
him  seriously.  It  worried  him. 

About  this  time  Harry  Needles  arrived  in  Vandalia. 
The  Legislature  had  adjourned  for  a  week-end.  It  was 
a  warm,  bright  Saturday,  early  in  March.  The  two 
friends  went  out  for  a  stroll  in  the  woods. 

"Have  you  seen  Mrs.  Abie's  sister,  Mary  Owens?" 
Abe  Lincoln  asked. 

"I've  seen  her  often." 


280  rA<  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

"What  kind  of  a  girl  is  she?" 

"A  good  kind,  but — heavy." 

"Fat?" 

"Massive  and  most  of  her  front  teeth  gone." 

Lincoln  looked  thoughtful. 

"You  look  as  if  she  had  stepped  on  your  foot," 
Harry  remarked. 

"The  fact  is  I'm  engaged  to  her  in  a  kind  of  a 
way." 

"Of  course  that's  a  joke." 

"You're  right;  it's  a  joke,  but  I'm  afraid  she  and 
her  sister  have  taken  it  seriously.  A  man  must  be 
careful  of  the  heart  of  a  young  woman.  After  all,  it 
isn't  a  thing  to  play  with.  As  usual,  when  I  try  to 
talk  with  women,  I  make  a  fool  of  myself." 

"It  would  be  easier  to  make  a  whistle  out  of  a  pig's 
tail  than  a  fool  out  of  you,"  said  Harry.  "I  have 
joked  like  that  with  Annabel  and  other  girls,  but  they 
knew  that  it  was  only  fun." 

"Still  true  to  your  old  love?" 

"As  firm  as  a  nail  driven  in  oak,"  said  Harry.  "I 
seem  to  be  built  that  way.  I  shall  never  care  much 
for  any  other  girl." 

"Do  you  hear  from  Bim?" 

"Once  in  a  while  I  get  a  long,  playful  letter  from 
her,  full  of  things  that  only  Bim  could  write." 

"Stuart  says  she  can  get  a  divorce.  We  know  the 
facts  pretty  well.  If  you  say  so,  we'll  prepare  the 
papers  and  you  can  take  them  up  to  Chicago  and  get 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  281 

them  signed  and  attested.  Stuart  tells  me  that  we 
can  serve  them  by  advertising." 

"Good!"  Harry  exclaimed.  "Get  the  papers  ready 
as  soon  as  you  can  and  send  them  up  to  me.  When 
they  come  I'll  mount  that  new  pony  of  mine  and  start 
for  Chicago.  If  she  won't  have  me,  let  her  take  a 
better  man." 

"In  my  opinion  Bim  will  want  you,"  said  the  legis- 
lator. "I'll  be  coming  home  in  a  few  days  and  will 
bring  the  papers  with  me.  The  session  is  about  over. 
If  the  rich  men  refuse  to  back  our  plans,  there's  going 
to  be  a  crowd  of  busted  statesmen  in  Illinois,  and  I'll 
be  one  of  'em." 

"Shall  you  spend  the  summer  in  New  Salem?" 

"I  don't  know  yet  what  I  shall  do.  First  I  must 
tackle  the  delicate  task  of  getting  disengaged  from 
Mary." 

"I  shouldn't  think  it  would  take  long,"  said  Harry, 
with  a  smile. 

"I  can  tell  better  after  a  preliminary  survey." 

"No  doubt  Mrs.  Able  would  like  to  have  you  marry 
her  sister.  She  knows  that  you  have  a  promising 
future  ahead  of  you.  But  don't  allow  her  to  look 
serious  over  that  little  joke." 

Abe  Lincoln  laughed  and  said:  "Mary  would  be 
like  the  man  who  traded  horses  unsight  and  unseen 
and  drew  a  saw  horse." 

Harry  returned  to  New  Salem.  After  the  session, 
young  Mr.  Lincoln  went  to  Springfield  and  did  not 


282  A'  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

reach  New  Salem  until  the  first  week  of  May.  When 
he  arrived  there,  Mrs.  Able  met  the  stage  from  which 
he  alighted  and  asked  him  to  come  to  supper  at  her 
house  that  evening.  Not  a  word  was  said  of  Mary  in 
the  excitement,  about  all  the  folk  of  the  village  having 
assembled  to  meet  and  cheer  the  triumphant  Captain 
of  Internal  Improvements.  Abe  Lincoln  went  to  sup- 
per and  met  Mary,  who  had  a  cheerful  heart  and  good 
manners,  and  a  schooled  and  active  intellect,  as  well 
as  the  defects  which  Harry  had  mentioned.  She  and 
the  young  statesman  had  a  pleasant  visit  together,  re- 
calling scenes  and  events  which  both  remembered  from 
beyond  the  barrier  of  a  dozen  years.  On  the  whole, 
he  was  agreeably  impressed.  The  neighbors  came  in 
after  supper.  Mrs.  Able  kept  the  comedy  moving 
along  by  a  playful  reference  to  the  pseudo  engage- 
ment of  the  young  people.  Mr.  Lincoln  laughed  with 
the  others  and  said  that  it  reminded  him  a  little  of 
the  boy  who  decided  to  be  president  and  only  needed 
the  consent  of  the  United  States. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

IN  WHICH  MR.  LINCOLN,  SAMSON  AND  HARRY  TAKE  A 
LONG  RIDE  TOGETHER  AND  THE  LATTER  VISIT  THE 
FLOURISHING  LITTLE  CITY  OF  CHICAGO, 

MR.  LINCOLN  had  brought  the  papers  which  Harry 
was  to  take  to  Bim,  and  made  haste  to  deliver  them. 
The  boy  was  eager  to  be  off  on  his  mission.  The 
fields  were  sown.  The  new  buyer  was  coming  to  take 
possession  in  two  weeks.  Samson  and  Harry  had  fin- 
ished their  work  in  New  Salem. 

"Wait  till  to-morrow  and  maybe  I'll  go  with  ye,'* 
said  Samson.  "I'm  anxious  to  see  the  country  clear 
up  to  the  lake  and  take  a  look  at  that  little  mushroom 
city  of  Chicago." 

"And  buy  a  few  corner  lots?"  Abe  Lincoln  asked, 
with  a  smile. 

"No;  I'll  wait  till  next  year.  They'll  be  cheaper 
then.  I  believe  in  Chicago.  It's  placed  right — on  the 
waterway  to  the  north  and  east,  with  good  country 
on  three  sides  and  transportation  on  the  other.  It 
can  go  into  partnership  with  Steam  Power  right  away 
and  begin  to  do  business.  Your  grain  and  pork  can  go 
straight  from  there  to  Albany  and  New  York  and 
Boston  and  Baltimore  without  being  rehandled.  When 

283 


284  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

railroads  come — if  they  ever  do — Steam  Power  will 
be  shoving  grain  and  meat  and  passengers  into  Chi- 
cago from  every  point  of  the  compass." 

Abe  Lincoln  turned  to  Sarah  and  said:  "This  is 
a  growing  country.  You  ought  to  see  the  cities 
springing  up  there  in  the  Legislature.  I  was  looking 
with  great  satisfaction  at  the  crop  when  Samson  came 
along  one  day  and  fell  on  it.  He  was  like  a  frost  in 
midsummer." 

"The  seed  was  sown  too  early,"  Samson  rejoined. 
"You  and  I  may  live  to  see  all  the  dreams  of  Van- 
dalia  come  true." 

"And  all  the  nightmares,  too,"  said  the  young 
statesman. 

"Yes,  we're  going  to  wake  up  and  find  a  cold  morn- 
ing and  not  much  to  eat  in  the  house  and  the  wolf  at 
the  door,  but  we'll  live  through  it." 

Then  the  young  statesman  proposed:  "If  you  are 
going  with  Harry,  I'll  go  along  and  see  what  they've 
done  on  the  Illinois  and  Michigan  Canal.  Some  con- 
tractors who  worked  on  the  Erie  Canal  will  start  from 
Chicago  Monday  to  look  the  ground  over  and  bid  on 
the  construction  of  the  southern  end  of  it.  I  want  to 
talk  with  them  when  they  come  along  down  the  line." 

"I  guess  a  few  days  in  the  saddle  would  do  you 
good,"  said  Samson. 

"I  reckon  it  would.     I've  beep  cloyed  on  house  air 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  285 

and  oratory  and  future  greatness.  The  prairie  wind 
and  your  pessimism  will  straighten  me  up." 

Harry  rode  to  the  village  that  afternoon  to  get 
"Colonel"  and  Mrs.  Lukins  to  come  out  to  the  farm 
and  stay  with  Sarah  while  he  and  Samson  were  away. 
Harry  found  the  "Colonel"  sitting  comfortably  in  a 
chair  by  the  door  of  his  cabin,  roaring  with  laughter. 
He  had  not  lived  up  to  his  title  and  was  still  generally 
known  as  "Bony"  Lukins. 

"What  are  you  roaring  at?"  Harry  demanded. 

The  "Colonel"  was  dumb  with  joy  for  a  moment. 
Then,  with  an  effort,  he  straightened  his  face  and 
managed  to  say:  "Laughin5  just  'cause  I'm  alive." 
The  words  were  followed  by  a  kind  of  spiritual  ex- 
plosion followed  by  a  silent  ague  of  merriment.  It 
would  seem  that  his  brain  had  discovered  in  the  human 
comedy  some  subtle  and  persuasive  jest  which  had 
gone  over  the  heads  of  the  crowd.  Yet  Harry  seemed 
to  catch  it,  for  he,  too,  began  to  laugh  with  the  for- 
tunate "Colonel." 

"You  see,"  said  the  latter,  as,  with  great  difficulty, 
he  restrained  himself  for  half  a  moment,  "this  is  my 
busy  day." 

Again  he  roared  and  shook  in  a  fit  of  ungovernable 
mirth.  In  the  midst  of  it  Mrs.  Lukins  arrived. 

"Don't  pay  no  'tention  to  him,"  she  said.  "The 
'Colonel'  is  wearin'  himself  out  restin'.  He's  kep'  his 


286  'A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

head  bobbin'  all  day  like  a  woodpecker's.  Jest  laughs 
till  he's  sick  every  time  he  an'  ol'  John  gits  together. 
It's  plum  ridic'lous." 

The  "Colonel"  turned  serious  long  enough  to  give 
him  time  to  explain  in  a  quivering,  joyous  tone:  "Ol' 
John,  he  just  sets  beside  me  and  says  the  gol'  darndest 
funniest  things !" 

He  could  get  no  further.  His  last  words  were 
blown  out  in  a  gale  of  laughter.  Mrs.  Lukins  had 
sat  down  with  her  knitting. 

"Ol'  John  Barleycorn  will  leave  to-night,  an*  to-mor- 
row the  'Colonel'  will  be  the  soberest  critter  in  Illi- 
nois— kind  o'  lonesome  like  an'  blubberin'  to  himself," 
she  explained.  The  faithful  soul  added  in  a  whisper 
of  confidence:  "He's  a  good  man.  There  don't  no- 
body know  how  deep  an'  kind  o'  coralapus  like  he  is." 

She  now  paused  as  if  to  count  stitches.  For  a  long 
time  the  word  "coralapus"  had  been  a  prized  posses- 
sion of  Mrs.  Lukins.  Like  her  feathered  bonnet,  it 
was  used  only  on  special  occasions  by  way  of  putting 
her  best  foot  forward.  It  was  indeed  a  family  orna- 
ment of  the  same  general  character  as  her  husband's 
title.  Just  how  she  came  by  it  nobody  could  tell,  but 
of  its  general  significance,  as  it  fell  from  her  lips, 
there  could  be  no  doubt  whatever  in  any  but  the  most 
obtuse  intellect.  For  her  it  had  a  large  and  noble, 
although  a  rather  indefinite  meaning,  entirely  favorable 
to  the  person  or  the  object  to  which  it  was  applied. 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  287 

There  was  one  other  word  in  her  lexicon  which  was  in 
the  nature  of  a  jewel  to  be  used  only  on  special  oc- 
casions. It  was  the  word  "copasetic."  The  best 
society  of  Salem  Hill  understood  perfectly  that  it  sig- 
nalized an  unusual  depth  of  meaning. 

In  half  a  moment  she  added :  "He's  got  some  grand 
idees.  If  they  was  ever  drawed  out  an'  spread  on  the 
ground  so  that  folks  could  see  them,  I  reckon  they'd 
be  surprised." 

"I'm  sorry  to  find  him  in  this  condition,"  said 
Harry.  "We  wanted  you  and  him  to  come  out  and 
help  Mrs.  Traylor  to  look  after  the  place  while  we 
are  gone  to  Chicago." 

"You  needn't  worry  about  Ol'  John,"  said  she. 
"He'll  git  lonesome  an'  toddle  off  when  the  'Colonel* 
goes  to  bed  an'  won't  come  'round  ag'in  till  snow  flies. 
That  man  will  be  just  as  steady  as  an  ox  all  the  sum- 
mer an'  fall — not  a  laugh  out  o'  him — you  see." 

"Can  you  be  there  at  six  in  the  morning?" 

"We'll  be  there — sure  as  sunrise — an'  ready  to  go 
to  work." 

They  were  on  hand  at  the  hour  appointed,  the  "Col- 
onel" having  acquired,  meanwhile,  his  wonted  look  of 
solemnity. 

Josiah,  now  a  sturdy  boy  of  thirteen,  stood  in  the 
dooryard,  holding  the  two  saddle  ponies  from  Ne- 
braska which  Samson  had  bought  of  a  drover.  Betsey, 
a  handsome  young  miss  almost  fifteen  years  old,  stood 


288  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

beside  him.  Sambo,  a  sober  old  dog  with  gray  hairs 
in  his  head,  sat  near,  looking  at  the  horses.  Sarah, 
whose  face  had  begun  to  show  the  wear  of  years  full 
of  loneliness  and  hard  work,  was  packing  the  saddle- 
bags, now  nearly  filled,  with  extra  socks  and  shirts  and 
doughnuts  and  bread  and  butter.  As  the  travelers 
were  saying  good-by,  Mrs.  Lukins  handed  a  package 
to  Samson. 

"I  heard  Philemon  Morris  readin'  'bout  Chicago  in 
the  paper,"  said  she.  "I  want  you  to  take  that  money 
an'  buy  me  some  land  thar — jest  as  much  as  ye  kin. 
There's  two  hundred  an'  fifty  dollars  in  the  foot  o' 
that  ol'  sock,  and  most  of  it  shiny  gold." 

"I  wouldn't  risk  my  savings  that  way,"  Samson  ad- 
vised. "It's  too  much  like  gambling.  You  couldn't 
afford  to  lose  your  money." 

"You  do  as  I  tell  ye,"  the  "Colonel's"  wife  insisted. 
"I  alwus  obey  your  orders.  Now  I  want  you  to  take 
one  from  me." 

"All  right,"  the  man  answered.  "If  I  see  anything 
that  looks  good  to  me,  I'll  buy  it  \i  I  can." 

As  the  two  men  were  riding  toward  the  village, 
Samson  said :  "Kind  o'  makes  my  heart  ache  to  leave 
home  even  for  a  little  while  these  days.  We've  had 
six  long,  lonesome  years  on  that  farm.  Not  one  of 
our  friends  have  been  out  to  see  us.  Sarah  was  right. 
Movin'  west  is  a  good  deal  like  dyin'  and  goin'  to  an- 
other world.  It's  a  pity  we  didn't  settle  further  north, 
but  we  were  tired  of  travel  when  we  got  here.  We 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  289 

didn't  know  which  way  to  turn  and  felt  as  if  we'd 
gone  far  enough.  When  we  settle  down  again,  it'll 
be  where  we  can  take  some  comfort  and  see  lots  o' 
folks  every  day." 

"Have  you  decided  where  to  go?"  Harry  asked. 

"I  think  we  shall  go  with  Abe  to  Springfield." 

"That's  good.  Next  year  I  hope  to  be  admitted  to 
the  bar,  and  I'd  like  to  settle  in  Springfield." 

For  nearly  two  years  Abe  Lincoln  had  been  pass- 
ing the  law  books  that  he  had  read  to  Harry  before 
they  went  back  to  John  T.  Stuart. 

The  gray  horses,  Colonel  and  Pete,  stood  by  the 
fence  in  the  pasture  lot  and  whinnied  as  the  men 
passed. 

"They  know  us  all  right,"  said  Samson.  "I  guess 
they  feel  slighted,  but  they've  had  their  last  journey. 
They're  about  worn  out.  We'll  give  'em  a  vacation 
this  summer.  I  wouldn't  sell  'em.  They're  a  part  o' 
the  family.  You  can  lay  yer  hand  on  either  one  and 
say  that  no  better  hoss  was  ever  wrapped  in  a  sur- 
cingle." 

They  met  Abe  Lincoln  at  the  tavern,  where  he  was 
waiting  on  a  big  horse  which  he  had  borrowed  for  the 
trip  from  James  Rutledge.  Without  delay,  the  three 
men  set  out  on  the  north  road  in  perfect  weather.  From 
the  hill's  edge  they  could  look  over  a  wooded  plain 
running  far  to  the  east. 

"It's  a  beautiful  place  to  live  up  here,  but  on  this 
side  you  need  a  ladder  to  get  to  it.  The  little  village 


290  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

is  going  to  die — too  much  altitude.  It's  a  horse  killer. 
No  team  can  draw  anything  but  its  breath  going  up 
that  hill.  It's  all  right  for  a  generation  of  walkers, 
but  the  time  has  come  when  we  must  go  faster  than 
a  walk  and  carry  bigger  burdens  than  a  basket  or  a 
bundle.  Every  one  will  be  moving — mostly  to  Peters- 
burg." 

As  they  rode  on,  the  young  statesman  repeated  a 
long  passage  from  one  of  the  sermons  of  Dr.  William 
Ellery  Channing  on  the  Instability  of  Human  Affairs. 

"I  wish  that  I  had  your  memory,"  Samson  re- 
marked. 

"My  memory  is  like  a  piece  of  metal,"  said  the 
young  legislator.  "Learning  is  not  easy  for  me.  It's 
-rather  slow  work — like  engraving  with  a  tool.  But 
when  a  thing  is  once  printed  on  my  memory  it  seems 
to  stay  there.  It  doesn't  rub  out.  When  I  run  across 
a  great  idea,  well  expressed,  I  like  to  put  it  on  the 
wall  of  my  mind  where  I  can  live  with  it.  In  this  way 
every  man  can  have  his  own  little  art  gallery  and  be  in 
the  company  of  great  men." 

They  forded  a  creek  in  deep  water,  where  a  bridge 
had  been  washed  away. 

As  they  came  out  dripping  on  the  farther  shore, 
Lincoln  remarked :  "The  thing  to  do  in-  fording  a 
deep  stream  is  to  keep  watch  o'  your  horse's  ears.  As 
long  as  you  can  see  'em  you're  all  right." 

"Mr.  Lincoln,  I'm  sorry — you  got  into  a  hole,"  said 
Samson. 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  291 

"I  don't  mind  that,  but  while  we're  traveling  to- 
gether, please  don't  call  me  'Mr.  Lincoln.'  I  don't  think 
I've  done  anything  to  deserve  such  lack  of  respect." 

Samson  answered:  "If  you're  nice  to  us,  I  don't 
know  but  we'll  call  ye  'Abe'  again,  just  for  a  few 
days.  You  can't  expect  us  to  go  too  far  with  a  man 
who  associates  with  Judges  and  Generals  and  Gov- 
ernors and  such  trash.  If  you  keep  it  up,  you're  bound 
to  lose  standing  in  our  community." 

"I  know  I've  changed,"  said  Abe.  "I've  grown  older 
since  Ann  died — years  older — but  I  don't  want  you 
fellows  to  throw  me  over.  I'm  on  the  same  level  that 
you  are  and  I  intend  to  stay  there.  It's  a  fool  notion 
that  men  go  up  some  heavenly  stairway  to  another 
plane  when  they  begin  to  do  things  worth  while.  That's 
a  kind  of  feudalistic  twaddle.  The  wise  man  keeps 
his  feet  on  the  ground  and  lifts  his  mind  as  high  as 
possible.  The  higher  he  lifts  it,  the  more  respect  he 
will  have  for  the  common  folk.  Have  either  of  you 
seen  McNamar  since  he  got  back  ?" 

"I  saw  him  the  day  he  drove  into  the  village," 
Harry  answered.  "He  was  expecting  to  find  Ann  and 
make  good  his  promise  to  marry  her." 

"Poor  fool!  It's  a  sad  story  all  around,"  said  Abe 
Lincoln.  "He's  not  a  bad  fellow,  1  reckon,  but  he 
broke  Ann's  heart.  Didn't  realize  what  a  tender  thing 
it  was.  I  can't  forgive  him." 

In  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  they  came  in  sight 
of  the  home  of  Henry  Brimstead. 


292  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

"Here's  where  we  stop  and  feed,  and  listen  to 
Henry's  secrets,"  said  Samson. 

The  level  fields  were  cut  into  squares  outlined  by 
wooden  stakes. 

Brimstead  was  mowing  the  grass  in  his  dooryard. 
He  dropped  his  scythe  and  came  to  welcome  the 
travelers. 

"Say,  don't  }^ou  know  that  you  are  standing  in  the 
center  of  a  large  and  promising  city?"  he  said  to  Sam- 
son. "You  fellers  ought  to  dress  up  a  little  when  ye 
come  to  town." 

"Boys,  we've  stumbled  on  to  a  dream  city,  paved 
with  gold  and  arched  with  rainbows,"  said  Samson. 

"You  are  standing  at  the  corner  of  Grand  Avenue 
and  Empire  Street,  in  the  growing  city  of  El  Dorado, 
near  the  great  water  highway  of  Illinois,"  Brimstead 
declaimed. 

"Where's  the  growin'  ?"  Samson  demanded. 

Brimstead  came  closer  and  said  in  a  confidential 
tone:  "If  you  stand  right  where  you  are  an'  listen, 
you'll  hear  it  growin'." 

"It  sounds  a  good  deal  like  a  turnip  growin'  in  a 
garden,"  Samson  remarked,  thoughtfully. 

"Give  it  a  fair  chance,"  Brimstead  went  on.  "Two 
cellars  have  been  dug  over  there  in  the  pasture.  One 
is  for  the  Town  Hall  and  the  other  for  the  University 
which  the  Methodists  are  going  to  build.  A  railroad 
has  been  surveyed  and  is  expected  this  summer." 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  293 

"That  same  railroad  has  been  expected  in  a  thous- 
and places  since  '32,"  said  Samson. 

"I  know,  it's  the  most  expected  thing  in  the  United 
States  but  that  won't  scare  it  away,"  Brimstead  went 
on.  "Everybody  is  yellin'  for  it." 

"You  can't  call  a  railroad  as  you  would  a  dog  by 
whistling,"  Abe  warned  him. 

"But  it's  got  beyond  Buffalo  on  its  way,"  said  Brim- 
stead. 

"A  team  of  healthy  snails  would  get  here  sooner," 
Samson  insisted. 

"El  Dorado  can  make  out  with  a  canal  to  Lake 
Michigan,  carrying  its  manufactures  and  the  product 
of  the  surrounding  country  straight  to  the  big  cities 
of  the  East,"  said  Brimstead.  "Every  corner  lot  in 
my  city  has  been  sold  and  paid  for,  half  cash  and  half 
notes." 

"The  brokers  in  Chicago  got  the  cash  and  you  got 
the  notes?" 

"You've  said  it.    I've  got  a  drawer  full  of  notes." 

"And  you've  quit  farmin'  ?" 

"Say,  I'll  tell  ye  the  land  has  gone  up  so  it  wouldn't 
pay.  Peasley  an'  I  cal'ate  that  we're  goin'  to  git  rich 
this  summer  sellin'  lots." 

"Wake  up,  man.     You're  dreamin',"  said  Samson. 

Henry  came  close  to  Samson  and  said  in  a  confiden- 
tial tone:  "Say,  mebbe  the  whole  state  is  dreamin' 
an'  yellin'  in  its  sleep  'bout  canals  an'  schools  an*  fac- 


294  '•&  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

tories  an'  mills  an'  railroads.  We're  havin'  a  good 
time  anyway." 

This  reminded  Abe  Lincoln  of  the  story : 

"There  was  a  man  in  Pope  County  who  came  home 
one  evening  and  sat  down  in  the  middle  of  the  barn 
floor  and  began  to  sing.  His  wife  asked  him: 

"  'Are  you  drunk  or  crazy  or  a  fool  ?' 

"  'I  don't  know  what  you'd  call  it,  but  I  know  I 
ain't  got  a  darn  bit  to  spare,'  he  answered,  with  a 
whoop  of  joy." 

"You're  all  goin'  to  roll  out  o'  bed  and  hit  the  floor 
with  a  bump,"  said  Samson. 

Brimstead  declared  in  his  usual  tone  of  confidence: 

"The  worst  part  o'  bein'  a  fool  is  lonesomeness.  I 
was  the  only  one  in  Flea  Valley.  Now  I  shall  be  in 
the  company  of  a  Governor  an'  dozens  q'  well  known 
statesmen.  You'll  be  the  only  lonesome  man  in  Illi- 
nois." 

"I  sometimes  fear  that  he  will  enjoy  the  loneliness 
of  wisdom,"  said  Honest  Abe. 

"In  some  parts  of  the  state  every  farmer  owns  his 
own  private  city,"  Samson  declared.  "I  hope  Henry 
Brimstead  does  as  well  raising  cities  as  he  did  raising 
grain.  He  was  a  very  successful  farmer." 

"I  knew  you'd  make  fun  o'  me  but  when  you  come 
again  you'll  see  the  towers  an'  steeples,"  said  Brim- 
stead.  "Put  up  your  horses  and  come  into  the  house 
and  see  the  first  lady  of  El  Dorado." 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  295 

Mrs.  Brimstead  had  their  dinner  cooking  before 
the  horses  were  cared  for.  Samson  went  into  the 
house  while  Henry  was  showing  his  El  Dorado  map 
to  the  others. 

"Well,  what  do  you  think  of  Henry's  plans?"  she 
asked. 

"I  like  the  farm  better." 

"So  do  I,"  the  woman  declared.  "But  the  men 
around  here  have  gone  crazy  with  dreams  of  sudden 
wealth.  I  kept  Henry  busy  on  the  farm  as  long  as  I 
could." 

"I've  only  a  word  of  advice  about  it  If  those  Chi- 
cago men  sell  any  more  of  your  land  make  them  take 
the  notes  and  you  take  the  money.  Where  is  Anna- 
bel?" 

"Teaching  the  school  at  Hopedale." 

"We're  going  up  to  Chicago  to  see  the  Kelsos,"  said 
Samson. 

"Glad  you  are.  Some  rich  feller  up  there  by  the 
name  of  Davis  has  fallen  in  love  with  Bim  an'  he 
don't  give  her  any  peace.  He  left  here  last  night  goin' 
north.  Owns  a  lot  o'  land  in  Tazewell  County  an' 
wears  a  diamond  in  his  shirt  as  big  as  your  thumb 
nail.  Bim  has  been  teaching  school  in  Chicago  this 
winter.  It  must  be  a  wonderful  place.  Every  one  has 
loads  of  money.  The  stores  an'  houses  are  as  thick 
as  the  hair  on  a  dog's  back — some  of  'em  as  big  as 
all  outdoors." 


296  'A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

She  added  in  a  moment  as  she  stirred  her  pudding : 
"Something  ought  to  be  done  for  Bim  to  get  her  free." 

"We're  going  to  see  about  that,"  Samson  assured 
her. 

"Harry  had  better  look  out,"  said  Mrs.  Brimstead. 

"Abe  is  going  to  get  a  divorce  for  her  an'  I  guess 
from  now  on  the  grass  won't  have  a  chance  to  grow 
under  Harry's  feet.  The  boy  has  worried  a  good 
deal  lately.  Wouldn't  wonder  if  he'd  heard  o'  those 
rich  fellers  but  he  hasn't  let  on  about  it." 

Abe  Lincoln  and  Harry  entered  with  their  host 
and  the  travelers  sat  down  to  a  luncheon  of  pudding 
and  milk  and  doughnuts  and  pie. 

"There's  no  El  Dorado  about  this,"  said  Samson. 
"Women  have  to  have  something  more  than  hopes 
to  work  with." 

"The  women  in  this  country  have  to  do  all  their 
dreaming  at  night,"  said  Mrs.  Brimstead. 

"El  Dorado  will  not  stay  long,"  Samson  averred. 

"It  wouldn't  cost  much  to  shoo  it  off  your  land," 
Abe  laughed. 

"You  can't  either  shoo  or  shoot  it,"  said  Brimstead. 

"I  look  for  it  just  to  take  the  rickets  an'  die,"  was 
the  comment  of  his  wife. 

"How  far  do  you  call  it  to  the  sycamore  woods?" 
Lincoln  asked  as  they  rose  from  the  table. 

"About  thirty  mile,"  said  Brimstead. 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  297 

"We  must  be  off  if  we  are  to  get  there  before  dark," 
the  young  statesman  declared. 

They  saddled  their  horses  and  mounted  and  rode 
up  to  the  door.  After  their  acknowledgments  and 
farewells  Brimstead  came  close  to  Samson  and  said 
in  confidence :  "I  enjoy  bein'  a  millionaire  for  a  few 
minutes  now  an'  then.  It's  as  good  as  goin'  to  a  circus 
an'  cheaper." 

"The  feelings  of  a  millionaire  are  almost  as  good 
as  the  money  while  they  last,"  said  Abe  Lincoln  with 
a  laugh. 

Brimstead  came  up  to  him  and  whispered :  "They're 
better  'cause  if  you  can  keep  away  from  Samson  Tray- 
lor  you  don't  have  any  fear  o'  bein'  robbed." 

"It  reminds  me  o'  the  time  I  used  to  play  I  was  a 
horse,"  said  Samson  as  they  rode  away.  In  a  moment 
he  added :  "Abe,  the  state  is  getting  in  a  bad  way." 

"It  looks  as  if  you  were  right,"  said  the  member 
from  Sangamon  County.  "It's  a  bad  sign  to  find  men 
like  Peasley  and  Brimstead  going  crazy." 

Up  the  road  they  passed  many  farms  unsown  and 
staked  into  streets  and  avenues.  The  hand  of  indus- 
try had  been  checked  by  dreams  of  wealth. 

"The  land  that  once  laughed  with  fatness  now  has 
a  lean  and  solemn  look,"  Abe  admitted.  "But  I  reck- 
on you'll  find  that  kind  of  thing  going  on  all  over  the 
country — east  and  west." 


298  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

"It  reminds  me  of  those  fellers  that  danced  on  the 
table  an'  smashed  the  dishes  at  the  banquet,"  said 
Samson. 

"They  had  the  same  kind  o'  feelin's  that  Brimstead 
has,"  said  the  legislator.  "I  wish  we  had  had  you  in 
the  House." 

"They  would  have  thrown  me  out  of  a  window." 

"I  wouldn't  wonder  but  I  reckon  the  time  is  near 
when  they  would  urge  you  to  come  in  at  the  door. 
You've  got  more  good  sense  than  all  of  us  put  to- 
gether. I've  heard  you  accuse  me  of  growing  but 
your  own  growth  has  astonished  me." 

"No  one  can  stand  still  in  this  country  especially  if 
he's  got  a  wife  like  mine,"  Samson  answered.  "Even 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Peter  Lukins  want  to  be  movin'  on,  an'  a 
city  is  likely  to  come  an'  sit  down  beside  ye  when  ye 
ain't  lookin'." 

"Your  wife  is  a  wonderful  woman,"  said  Abe. 

"She's  been  a  great  help  to  me,"  Samson  declared. 
"We  read  together  and  talk  the  matter  over.  She's 
got  better  sense  than  I  have." 

"And  yet  they  say  women  ought  not  to  vote,"  said 
Lincoln.  "That's  another  relic  of  feudalism.  I  think 
that  the  women  you  and  I  know  are  as  well  qualified 
to  vete  as  the  men." 

"On  the  whole  better.  They  are  more  industrious, 
thrifty  and  dependable.  Have  you  ever  seen  a 
'Celonel'  Lukins  or  a  Bap  McNoll  in  woman's  dress?" 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  299 

"Never.  Democracy  has  much  ground  to  win.  For 
my  part  I  believe  that  the  Declaration  of  Independence 
is  a  practical  document.  My  ambition  is  to  see  its 
truth  accepted  everywhere.  As  a  contribution  to  hu- 
man welfare  its  principles  are  second  only  to  the  law 
>f  Moses.  It  should  be  our  work  to  keep  the  struc- 
ture of  America  true  to  the  plan  of  its  architects." 

After  a  moment  of  silence  Lincoln  added:  "What 
is  your  ambition?" 

"It  is  very  modest,"  said  Samson.  "I've  been  think- 
ing that  I'd  like  to  go  into  some  kind  of  business  and 
help  develop  the  West." 

"Well  some  one  has  got  to  provide  our  growing 
population  with  food  and  clothing  and  tools  and  trans- 
portation." 

"And  see  that  they  don't  get  El  Doradoed,"  said 
Harry. 

At  early  candlelight  they  reached  the  sycamore 
woods  very  hungry.  It  was  a  beautiful  grove-like 
forest  on  the  shore  of  a  stream.  The  crossing  was  a 
rough  bridge  of  corduroy.  A  crude  log  tavern  and  a 
cruder  store  stood  on  the  farther  shore  of  the  creek. 
The  tavern  was  a  dirty  place  with  a  drunken  proprie- 
tor. Three  ragged,  shiftless  farmers  and  a  half-breed 
Indian  sat  in  its  main  room  in  varying  stages  of  ine- 
briacy.  A  well  dressed,  handsome,  young  man  with 
a  diamond  in  his  shirt-front  was  leading  a  horse  back 
and  forth  in  the  stable  yard.  The  diamond  led  Samson 


300  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

to  suspect  that  he  was  the  man  Davis  of  whom  Mrs. 
Brimstead  had  spoken.  Our  travelers,  not  liking  the 
look  of  the  place,  got  some  oats  and  rode  on,  camping 
near  the  farther  edge  of  the  woods,  where  they  built 
a  fire,  fed  and  tethered  their  horses  and  sat  down  and 
ate  from  the  store  in  their  saddle-bags. 

"I  was  hankering  for  a  hot  supper,"  said  Abe  as 
they  began  eating.  "Washington  Irving  wrote  in  his 
journal  that  if  he  couldn't  get  a  dinner  to  suit  his 
taste  he  endeavored  to  get  a  taste  to  suit  his  dinner. 
That  is  what  we  must  do." 

They  made  out  very  well  in  the  undertaking  and 
then  with  their  knives  Abe  and  Samson  cut  big  arm- 
fuls  of  grass  from  the  near  prairie  for  the  horses  and 
a  bed  upon  which  the  three  men  lay  down  for  the 
night.  Harry  had  dried  out  their  saddle-blankets  by 
the  fire  and  these  were  their  bed  clothing. 

'''This  hay  may  have  some  bugs  in  it  but  they  won't 
tickle  so  bad  as  those  in  the  tavern,"  Abe  laughed. 

Then  Harry  remarked :  "There  was  lots  of  bad 
company  in  that  tavern.  The  towel  that  hung  over 
the  washstand  was  as  black  as  the  ground." 

"It  reminded  me  of  the  tavern  down  in  Pope  Coun- 
ty," Abe  yawned.  "A  traveler  found  fault  with  the 
condition  of  its  one  towel  and  the  landlord  said:  'Go 
to  h — 1,  stranger.  More  than  fifty  men  have  used  that 
towl  to-day  an'  you're  the  first  one  that's  complained 
of  it.'  " 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  301 

Samson  had  that  gift  of  "sleeping  with  one  eye 
open"  which  the  perils  of  the  wilderness  had  conferred 
upon  the  pioneer.  He  had  lain  down  on  the  side  of 
their  bed  near  the  horses,  which  were  tethered  to 
trees  only  a  few  feet  away.  He  had  gone  to  sleep 
with  his  pistol  under  his  right  hand.  Since  the  begin- 
ning of  that  long  journey  overland  from  Vermont 
Samson  had  been  wont  to  say  that  his  right  hand  never 
slept.  Late  in  the  night  he  was  awakened  by  an  un- 
usual movement  among  the  horses.  In  the  dim  light 
of  the  fire  he  could  see  a  man  in  the  act  of  bridling 
Abe's  horse. 

"Hold  up  your  hands,"  Samson  shouted  as  he  cov- 
ered the  man  with  his  pistol.  "If  ye  stir  a  foot  I'll 
bore  a  hole  in  ye." 

The  man  threw  up  his  hands  and  stood  still. 

In  half  a  moment  Abe  Lincoln  and  Harry  had  got 
up  and  captured  the  man  and  the  loosed  horse. 

This  is  part  of  the  entry  which  Samson  made  in 
his  diary  a  week  or  so  later : 

"Harry  put  some  wood  on  the  fire  while  Abe  and  I 
led  him  up  into  the  light.  He  was  one  of  the  dirty 
white  men  we  had  seen  at  the  tavern. 

"  Til  give  ye  four  hundred  dollars  for  a  hoss  in  good 
Michigan  money,'  he  said. 

"  'If  ye  can't  steal  a  horse  you're  willin'  to  buy  one,' 
I  says. 

"  'No,  sir.     I  only  come  to  buy,'  says  he. 


302  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

"I  flopped  him  sudden  and  asked  him  why  he  was 
putting  on  the  bridle. 

"He  owned  up  then.  Said  a  man  had  hired  him  to 
steal  the  horse. 

'  That  man  has  got  to  have  a  hoss/  he  said.  'He'll 
give  ye  any  price  ye  want  to  ask.  If  you'll  give  me 
a  few  dollars  I'll  take  ye  to  him.' 

'You  go  and  bring  him  here  and  I'll  talk  to  him/ 
I  said. 

"I  let  the  feller  go.  I  didn't  suppose  he'd  come  back 
but  he  did.  Came  a  little  before  sunrise  with  that  well 
dressed  feller  we  saw  at  the  tavern. 

"  'Do  you  want  to  buy  a  horse  ?'  I  says. 

"  'Yes,  sir,  I've  got  to  get  to  Chicago  to-day  if  pos- 
sible.' 

"'What's  your  hurry?' 

"  'I  have  engagements  to-morrow  and  land  to  sell.' 

"  'How  did  ye  get  here?' 

"  'Came  up  from  Tazewell  County  to-day  on  a 
horse.  It  died  last  evening.' 

"  'What's  your  name  ?'  I  says. 

"He  handed  me  a  card  on  which  I  read  the  words 
'Lionel  Davis,  Real  Estate,  Loans  and  Insurance,  14 
South  Water  Street,  Chicago,  111/ 

"  There's  one  branch  o'  your  business  that  isn't 
mentioned  on  the  card/  I  says. 

"'What's  that?'  says  he. 

"  'Horse-thief/  says  I.  'You  sent  that  feller  here 
to  steal  a  horse  and  he  got  caught/ 

"  'Well  I  told  him  if  he'd  get  me  a  good  horse  I'd 
give  him  five  hundred  dollars  and  that  I  didn't  care 
how  he  got  him.  The  fact  is  I'm  desperate.  I'll  give 
you  a  thousand  dollars  for  one  of  your  horses/ 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  303 

"  'You  couldn't  buy  one  of  'em  at  any  price,'  I  said, 
'There's  two  reasons.  I  wouldn't  do  business  with  a 
horse-thief  and  no  money  would  tempt  me  to  sell  an 
animal  to  be  ridden  to  death.' 

"The  two  thieves  had  had  enough  of  us  and  they 
got  out" 

That  night  our  party  camped  on  the  shore  of  the 
Kankakee  and  next  day  they  met  the  contractors.  Lin- 
coln joined  the  latter  party  and  Harry  and  Samson 
went  on  alone.  Late  that  afternoon  they  crossed  the 
nine  mile  prairie,  beyond  which  they  could  see  the  shim- 
mer of  the  lake  and  the  sunlit  structures  of  the  new 
city.  Pink  and  white  moccasin  flowers  and  primroses 
were  thick  in  the  grass.  On  the  lower  ground  the 
hoofs  of  their  horses  plashed  in  wide  stretches  of 
shallow  water. 

Chicago  looked  very  bare  on  the  high  prairie  above 
the  lake.  It  was  Mr.  William  Culien  Bryant  who 
said  that  it  had  the  look  of  a  huckster  in  his  shirt- 
sleeves. 

"There  it  is,"  said  Samson.  "Four  thousand,  one 
hundred  and  eighty  people  live  there.  It  looks  like 
a  sturdy  two-year-old." 

The  houses  were  small  and  cheaply  built  and  of 
many  colors.  Some  were  unpainted.  Near  the  prairie 
they  stood  like  people  on  the  outer  edge  of  a  crowd, 
looking  over  one  another's  shoulders  and  pushing  in  a 
disordered  mass  toward  the  center  of  interest.  Some 


304  A'  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

seemed  to  have  straggled  away  as  if  they  had  given 
up  trying  to  see  or  hear.  So  to  one  nearing  it  the 
town  had  a  helter-skelter  look. 

Our  travelers  passed  rough  boarded  houses  with 
grand-looking  people  in  their  dooryards  and  on  their 
small  porches — men  in  broadcloth  and  tall  hats  and 
ladies  in  silk  dresses.  It  was  six  o'clock  and  the  men 
had  come  home  to  supper.  As  the  horsemen  proceeded 
larger  buildings  surrounded  them,  mostly  two  stories 
high.  There  were  some  stores  and  houses  built  of 
red  brick.  Beyond  the  scatter  of  cheap,  wooden  struc- 
tures they  came  to  streets  well  laid  out  and  crowded 
and  busy  and  "very  soft"  to  quote  a  phrase  from  the 
diary.  Teams  were  struggling  in  the  mud,  drivers 
shouting  and  lashing.  Agents  for  hotels  and  boarding- 
houses  began  to  solicit  the  two  horsemen  from  the 
plank  sidewalks.  The  latter  were  deeply  impressed 
by  a  negro  in  scarlet  clothes,  riding  a  horse  in  scarlet 
housings.  He  carried  a  scarlet  banner  and  was  ad- 
vertising in  a  loud  voice  the  hour  and  place  of  a  great 
land  sale  that  evening. 

A  sound  of  many  hammers  beating  upon  boards 
could  be  heard  above  the  noises  of  the  street  and  be- 
hind all  was  the  constant  droning  of  a  big  steam  saw 
and  the  whir  of  the  heavy  stones  in  the  new  grist  mill. 
It  was  the  beginning  of  that  amazing  diapason  of  in- 
dustry which  accompanied  the  building  of  the  cities 
of  the  West. 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  305 

They  put  out  in  the  livery  stable  of  the  City  Hotel 
and  at  the  desk  of  the  latter  asked  about  the  price  of 
board.  It  was  three  dollars  a  day  and  no  politeness  in 
the  offer. 

"It's  purty  steep,"  said  Samson.  "But  I'm  too  hun- 
gry for  argument  or  delay  and  I  guess  we  can  stand 
it  to  be  nabobs  for  a  day  or  so." 

"I  shall  have  to  ask  you  to  pay  in  advance,"  the 
clerk  demanded. 

Samson  drew  out  the  pig's  bladder  in  which  he 
carried  his  money  and  paid  for  a  day's  board. 

Samson  writes  that  Harry  spent  half  an  hour  wash- 
ing and  dressing  himself  in  the  clean  clothes  and  fine 
shoes  which  he  had  brought  in  his  saddle-bags  and 
adds : 

"He  was  a  broad-shouldered,  handsome  chap  those 
days,  six  feet  and  an  inch  high  and  straight  as  an 
arrow  with  a  small  blond  mustache.  His  clothes  were 
rumpled  up  some  and  he  wore  a  gray  felt  hat  instead 
of  a  tall  one  but  there  was  no  likelier  looking  lad  in 
the  new  city." 

After  supper  the  office  of  the  hotel  was  crowded  with 
men  in  tali  hats  and  tail  coats  smoking  "seegars"  and 
gathered  in  groups.  The  earnestness  of  their  talk 
was  signalized  by  little  outbursts  of  profanity  coupled 
with  the  name  of  Jackson.  Some  denounced  the  Presi- 
dent as  a  traitor.  One  man  stood  in  the  midst  of  a 


3o6  rA  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

dozen  others  delivering  a  sort  of  oration,  embellished 
with  noble  gestures,  on  the  future  of  Illinois.  His 
teeth  were  clenched  on  his  "seegar"  that  tilted  out  of 
the  corner  of  his  mouth  as  he  spoke.  Now  and  then 
he  would  pause  and  by  a  deft  movement  of  hi's  lips 
roll  the  "seegar"  to  the  other  corner  of  his  mouth, 
take  a  fresh  grip  on  it  and  resume  his  oration. 
Samson  wrote  in  his  diary : 

"He  said  a  lot  of  foolish  things  that  made  us  laugh." 

Twenty  years  later  he  put  this  note  under  that  en- 
try: 

"The  funny  thing  about  it  was  really  this;  they  all 
came  true." 

The  hotel  clerk  had  a  Register  of  the  Residents 
of  the  City  of  Chicago  wherein  they  found  the  name 
and  address  of  John  Kelso.  They  went  out  to  find 
the  house.  Storekeepers  tried  to  stop  them  as  they 
passed  along  the  street  with  offers  of  land  at  bargains 
which  would  make  them  millionaires  in  a  week.  In 
proceeding  along  the  plank  sidewalks  they  were  often 
ascending  or  descending  steps  to  another  level. 

They  went  to  a  barber  shop  and  got  "trimmed  and 
shaved."  For  change  the  barber  gave  them  a  sort 
of  shinplaster  money,  each  piece  of  which  bore  the 
legend :  "Good  for  one  shave  or  ten  cents  at  the  Palace 
Shaving  Parlors,  16  Dearborn  Street,  Chicago,  111." 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  307 

The  barber  assured  them  it  was  as  good  as  coin  any- 
where in  the  city  which  they  found  to  be  true.  The 
town  was  flooded  with  this  "red  dog  money"  issued 
by  stores  or  work-shops  and  finding  general  acceptance 
among  its  visitors  and  inhabitants.  On  the  sidewalks 
were  emigrant  families  the  older  members  of  which 
carried  heavy  bags  and  bundles.  They  were  followed 
by  troops  of  weary,  dirty  children. 

On  La  Salle  Street  they  found  the  home  of  Jack 
Kelso.  It  was  a  rough  boarded  small  house  a  story 
and  a  half  high.  It  had  a  little  porch  and  dooryard 
enclosed  by  an  unpainted  picket  fence.  Bim  in  a  hand- 
some, blue  silk  gown  came  running  out  to  meet  them. 

"If  you  don't  mind  I'm  going  to  kiss  you,"  she  said 
to  Harry. 

"I'd  mind  if  you  didn't,"  said  the  young  man  as  he 
embraced  her. 

"We  must  be  careful  not  to  get  the  habit,"  she 
laughed. 

"It  grows  on  one." 

"It  also  grows  on  two/'  she  answered. 

"I'd  enjoy  being  careless  for  once,"  said  Harry. 

"Women  can  be  extravagant  with  everything  but 
carelessness,"  she  insisted  "Do  you  like  this  gown?" 

"It  is  lovely — like  yourself." 

"Then  perhaps  you  will  be  willing  to  take  me  to  the 
party  to-night.  My  mother  will  chaperon  us." 

"With  these  clothes  that  have  just  been  hauled  out 
of  a  saddle-bag?"  said  Harry  with  a  look  of  alarm. 


3o8  2E  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

"Even  rags  could  not  hide  the  beauty  of  him,"  said 
Kelso  as  he  came  down  from  the  porch  to  greet  them. 
"And  look  at  her,"  he  went  on.  "Was  there  ever  a 
fairer  maid  in  spite  of  all  her  troubles?  See  the  red 
in  her  cheeks  and  the  diamond  glow  of  youth  and 
health  in  her  eyes.  You  should  see  the  young  men 
sighing  and  guitaring  around  her." 

"You'll  hear  me  tuning  up,"  Harry  declared. 

"That  is  father's  way  of  comforting  my  widow- 
hood," said  Bim.  "He  has  made  a  wonderful  beauty 
mask  and  often  he  claps  it  on  me  and  whistles  up  a 
band  of  sighing  lovers.  As  a  work  of  the  imagination 
I  am  a  great  success." 

"The  look  of  you  sets  my  heart  afire  again,"  the  boy 
exclaimed. 

"Come — put  up  your  guitar  and  take  mother  and 
me  to  the  party  at  Mrs.  Kinzie's,"  said  Bim,  "A  very 
grand  young  man  was  coming  to  take  us  in  a  won- 
derful carriage  but  he's  half  an  hour  late  now.  We 
won't  wait  for  him." 

So  the  three  set  out  together  afoot  for  Mrs.  Kin- 
zie's, while  Samson  sat  down  for  a  visit  with  Jack 
Kelso. 

"Mrs.  Kinzie  enjoys  the  distinction  of  owning  a 
piano,"  said  Bim  as  they  went  on.  "There  are  only 
three  pianos  in  the  city  and  so  far  we  have  discovered 
only  two  people  who  can  play  on  them — the  music 
teacher  and  a  young  gentleman  from  Baltimore.  When 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  309 

they  are  being-  played  on  people  gather  around  the 
houses  where  they  are." 

The  Kinzies'  house  was  of  brick  and  larger  and 
more  pretentious  than  any  in  Chicago.  Its  lawn,  ver- 
anda and  parlor  were  crowded  with  people  in  a 
curious  variety  of  costumes. 

Nearly  all  the  festive  company  wore  diamonds.  They 
scintillated  on  fingers,  some  of  which  were  knotted  with 
toil;  they  glowed  on  shirt  bosoms  and  morning1  as 
well  as  evening  gowns;  on  necks  and  ears  which 
should  have  been  spared  the  emphasis  of  jewels.  They 
were  the  accepted  badge  and  token  of  success.  People 
who  wore  them  not  were  either  new  arrivals  or  those 
of  questionable  wealth  and  taste.  So  far  had  this 
singular  vanity  progressed  that  a  certain  rich  man, 
who  had  lost  a  finger  in  a  saw  mill,  wore  an  immense 
solitaire  next  to  the  stub,  it  may  be  presumed,  as  a 
memorial  to  the  departed. 

Colonel  Zachary  Taylor,  who  had  laterly  arrived 
from  Florida  and  was  presently  returning  with  a  regi- 
ment of  recruits  for  the  Seminole  War,  was  at  Mrs. 
Kinzie's  party.  He  was  then  a  man  of  middle  age 
with  iron  gray  hair  and  close  cropped  side  whiskers. 
A  splendid  figure  he  was  in  his  uniform.  He  re- 
membered Harry  and  took  him  in  hand  and  intro- 
duced him  to  many  of  his  friends  as  the  best  scout  in 
the  Black  Hawk  War,  and,  in  spite  of  his  dress,  the 
young  man  became  one  of  the  lions  of  the  evening. 


310  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

"I  reckon  I  could  tell  you  some  things  about  this 
boy,"  the  Colonel  said  to  Bim. 

"He  may  not  be  afraid  of  guns  or  Indians  but  he 
has  always  been  scared  of  women,"  said  she. 

"Which  shows  that  he  has  a  just  sense  of  the  rela- 
tive importance  of  perils,"  the  Colonel  answered.  "A 
man  of  the  highest  chivalry  is  ever  afraid  in  the  pres- 
ence of  a  lovely  woman  and  chiefly  for  her  sake.  I 
once  held  a  beautiful  vase  in  my  hands.  They  said  it 
was  worth  ten  thousand  dollars.  I  was  afraid  until  I 
had  put  it  down." 

"A  great  piano  player  from  New  York"  was  intro- 
duced. She  played  on  Mrs.  Kinzie's  instrument,  after 
which  Bim  sang  a  number  of  Scottish  ballads  and 
"delightfully"  if  one  may  believe  a  chronicler  so 
partial  as  Harry  Needles,  the  value  of  whose  judg- 
ment is  somewhat  affected  by  the  statement  in  his 
diary  that  as  she  stood  by  the  piano  her  voice  and 
beauty  set  his  heart  thumping  in  his  breast.  How- 
ever of  the  charm  and  popularity  of  this  young  lady 
there  is  ample  evidence  in  copies  of  The  Democrat 
which  are  still  preserved  and  in  sundry  letters  and 
journals  of  that  time. 

The  refreshment  table  was  decorated  with  pyra- 
mids of  quartered  oranges  in  nets  of  spun  sugar  and 
large  frosted  cakes.  There  were  roasted  pigeons  and 
turkeys  and  chickens  and  a  big  ham,  served  with  jelly, 
and  platters  of  doughnuts  and  bread  and  butter  and 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  311 

cabbage  salad.  Every  one  ate  heartily  and  was  served 
often,  for  the  supper  was  thought  to  be  the  most  im- 
portant feature  of  a  party  those  days. 

After  refreshments  the  men  went  outside  to  smoke 
and  talk — some  with  pipes — of  canals,  railroads  and 
corner  lots  while  the  younger  people  were  dancing  and 
being  proudly  surveyed  by  their  mothers. 

As  Harry  and  the  ladies  were  leaving  Colonel  Tay- 
lor came  to  them  and  said : 

"Young  man,  I  am  the  voice  of  your  country.  I  call 
you  to  Florida.  Will  you  go  with  us  next  week?" 

Harry  looked  into  Bim's  eyes. 

"The  campaign  will  be  over  in  a  year  and  I  need 
you  badly,**  the  Colonel  urged. 

"I  can  not  say  no  to  the  call  of  my  country,"  Harry 
answered.  "I  will  join  your  regiment  at  Beardstown 
on  its  way  down  the  river." 

That  night  Harry  and  Bim  stood  by  the  gate  talk- 
ing after  Mrs.  Kelso  had  gone  into  the  house. 

"Bim,  I  love  you  more  than  ever,"  said  the  boy. 
"Abe  says  you  can  get  a  divorce.  I  have  brought  the 
papers  for  you  to  sign.  They  will  make  you  free.  I 
have  done  it  for  your  sake.  You  will  be  under  no  ob- 
ligation. I  want  you  to  be  free  to  marry  whom  you 
will.  I  would  be  the  happiest  man  in  the  world  if 
you  were  to  choose  me.  I  haven't  the  wealth  of  some 
of  these  city  men.  I  can  only  offer  you  my  love." 

"Be  careful  and  please  let  go  of  my  hand,"   she 


/ 


312  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

said.  "The  time  has  come  when  it  would  be  possible 
to  spoil  our  story.  I'm  not  going  to  say  a  word  of 
love  to  you.  I  am  not  free  yet.  We  couldn't  marry 
if  we  wanted  to.  I  wish  you  to  be  under  no  sense  of 
obligation  to  me.  Many  things  may  happen  in  a  year. 
I  am  glad  you  are  going  to  see  more  of  the  world  be- 
fore you  settle  down,  Harry.  You  will  stop  in  New 
Orleans  and  see  some  of  its  beautiful  women.  It  will 
help  you  to  be  sure  to  know  yourself  a  little  better  and 
to  be  sure  of  what  you  want  to  do." 

There  was  a  note  of  sadness  in  her  voice  as  she 
spoke  these  words  which  he  recalled  with  a  sense  of 
comfort  on  many  a  lonely  day. 

"I  think  that  I  know  myself  fairly  well,"  he  an- 
swered. "There  are  so  many  better  men  who  want  to 
marry  you!  I  shall  go  away  with  a  great  fear  in  me." 

"There  are  no  better  men,"  she  answered.  "When 
you  get  back  we  shall  see  what  comes  of  our  little 
romance.  Meanwhile  I'm  going  to  pray  for  you." 

"And  I  for  you,"  he  said  as  he  followed  her  into  the 
house  where  the  older  people  sat  waiting  for  them. 
Harry  gave  the  papers  to  Bim  to  be  signed  and  at- 
tested and  forwarded  to  Mr.  Stuart  in  Springfield. 

On  their  way  to  the  hotel  Samson  said  to  Harry ; 

"I  don't  believe  Bim  is  going  to  be  carried  away  by 
any  of  these  high-flyers.  She's  getting  to  be  a  very 
sensible  person.  Jack  is  disgusted  by  what  he  calls 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  313 

'the  rank  commercialism  of  the  place/  I  told  him 
about  that  horse-thief  Davis.  He  was  the  man  who 
was  going-  to  the  party  to-night  with  the  ladies.  He's 
in  love  with  Bim.  Jack  says  that  the  men  here  are 
mostly  of  that  type.  They  seem  to  have  gone  crazy 
in  the  scramble  for  riches.  Their  motto  is :  'Get  it ; 
do  it  honestly  if  you  can,  but  get* it.'  I  guess  that  was 
exactly  the  plan  of  Davis  in  trying  to  get  a  horse. 

"Poor  Jack  has  caught  the  plague.  He  has  invested 
in  land.  Thinks  it  will  make  him  rich.  He's  in  poor 
health  too — kidney  trouble — and  Bim  has  a  baby  with 
all  the  rest — a  beautiful  boy.  I  went  up-stairs  and  saw 
him  asleep  in  his  cradle.  Looks  like  her.  Hair  as 
yellow  as  gold,  light  complexion,  blue  eyes,  handsome 
as  a  picture." 

That  night  in  the  office  of  the  City  Hotel  they  found 
Mr.  Lionel  Davis  in  the  midst  of  a  group  of  excited 
speculators.  In  some  way  he  had  got  across  the  prairies 
and  was  selling  his  land  and  accepting  every  offer  on 
the  plea  that  he  was  going  into  the  grain  business  in 
St.  Louis  and  had  to  leave  Chicago  next  day.  Samson 
and  Harry  watched  him  while  he  exercised  the  arts  of 
the  auctioneer  in  cleaning  his  slate.  Diamonds  and  gold 
watches  were  taken  and  many  thousands  of  dollars  in 
bank  bills  and  coin  came  into  his  hands.  He  choked 
the  market  with  bargains.  The  buyers  began  to  back 
off.  They  were  like  hungry  dogs  laboring  with  a 


3i4  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

difficult  problem  of  mastication.     Mr.  Davis  closed  his 
carpet  bag  and  left. 

"It  was  a  kind  of  horse  stealin',"  said  Samson  as 
they  were  going  to  bed.  "He  got  news  down  there  on 
the  main  road  by  pony  express  on  its  way  to  St.  Louis. 
I'll  bet  there's  been  a  panic  in  the  East.  He's  awake 
and  the  others  are  still  dreamin'." 


CHAPTER  XIX 

WHEREIN  IS  ONE  OF  THE  MANY  PRIVATE  PANICS  WHICH 
FOLLOWED  THE  BURSTING  OF  THE  BUBBLE  OF  SPECU- 
LATION. 

SAMSON  and  Harry  saw  the  bursting1  of  the  great 
bubble  of  '37.  Late  that  night  Disaster,  loathsome  and 
thousand  legged,  crept  into  the  little  city.  It  came  on 
a  steamer  from  the  East  and  hastened  from  home  to 
home,  from  tavern  to  tavern.  It  bit  as  it  traveled. 
Great  banks  had  suspended  payment;  New  York  had 
suffered  a  panic ;  many  large  business  enterprises  in  the 
East  had  failed ;  certain  agents  for  the  bonds  of  Illinois 
had  absconded  with  the  state's  money ;  in  the  big  cities 
there  had  been  an  ominous  closing  of  doors  and  turn- 
ing of  locks;  a  great  army  of  men  were  out  of  em- 
ployment. Those  of  sound  judgment  in  Chicago  knew 
that  all  the  grand  schemes  of  the  statesmen  and  specu- 
lators of  Illinois  were  as  the  visions  of  an  ended 
dream.  The  local  banks  did  not  open  their  doors  next 
day.  The  little  city  was  in  a  frenzy  of  excitement. 
The  streets  were  filled  with  a  shouting,  half  crazed 
throng.  New  fortunes  had  shrunk  to  nothing  and 
less  than  nothing  in  a  night.  Lots  in  the  city  were 

315 


316  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

offered  for  a  tithe  of  what  their  market  value  had 
been.  Davis  had  known  that  the  storm  would  arrive 
with  the  first  steamer  and  in  the  slang  of  business 
had  put  on  a  life-preserver.  Samson  knew  that  the 
time  to  buy  was  when  every  one  wanted  to  sell.  He 
wore  a  belt  with  some  two  thousand  dollars  of  gold 
coin  tucked  away  in  its  pockets.  He  bought  two  cor- 
ner lots  for  himself  in  the  city  and  two  acres  for  Mrs. 
Lukins  on  the  prairie  half  a  mile  from  town.  They 
got  their  deeds  and  went  to  the  Kelsos  to  bid  them 
good-by. 

"Is  there  anything  I  can  do  for  you  ?"  Samson  asked. 

"Just  give  us  a  friendly  thought  now  and  then," 
said  Kelso. 

"You  can  have  my  horse  or  my  wallet  or  the 
strength  of  my  two  hands." 

"I  have  heard  you  called  a  damned  Yankee  but  I 
can  think  of  no  greater  blessing  than  to  be  damned 
in  a  like  manner,"  Kelso  answered.  "Keep  your 
largess  for  those  who  need  it  more,  good  friend." 

After  these  hearty  farewells  Samson  and  Harry 
set  out  for  their  home.  They  were  not  again  to  see 
the  gentle  face  and  hear  the  pleasant  talk  of  Jack  Kelso. 
He  had  once  said,  in  the  presence  of  the  writer,  that 
it  is  well  to  remember,  always,  that  things  can  not  go 
on  with  us  as  they  are.  Changes  come — slowly  and 
quite  according  to  our  calculations  or  so  swiftly  and 
unexpectedly  that  they  fill  us  with  confusion.  Learned 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  317 

and  wise  in  the  weighty  problems  of  humanity  he 
had  little  prudence  in  regulating  the  affairs  of  his 
own  family. 

Kelso  had  put  every  dollar  he  had  and  some  that 
he  hoped  to  have  into  land.  Bim,  who  had  been  teach- 
ing in  one  of  the  schools,  had  invested  all  her  savings 
in  a  dream  city  on  the  shore  of  an  unconstructed 
canal. 

Like  many  who  had  had  no  experience  with  such 
phenomena  they  underestimated  the  seriousness  of  the 
panic.  They  thought  that,  in  a  week  or  so,  its  effect 
would  pass  and  that  Illinois  would  then  resume  its 
triumphal  march  toward  its  high  destiny.  Not  even 
Samson  Traylor  had  a  correct  notion  of  the  slowness 
of  Time. 

The  effect  of  the  panic  paralyzed  the  city.  Men 
whose  "red  dog  money"  was  in  every  one's  pocket 
closed  their  shops  and  ran  away.  The  wild  adven- 
turers cleared  out.  Their  character  may  be  judged  by 
the  words  of  one  of  them  reported  by  the  editor  of 
The  Democrat. 

"I  failed  for  a  hundred  thousand  dollars  and  could 
have  failed  for  a  million  if  Jackson  had  kept  his  hands 
off." 

Hard  times  hung  like  a  cloud  over  the  city.  Its 
population  suffered  some  diminishment  in  the  next 
two  years  in  spite  of  its  position  on  the  main  highway 
of  trade.  Dream  cities,  canals  and  railroads  built 


318  M  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

without  hands  became  a  part  of  the  poetry  of  Ameri- 
can commerce.  Indeed  they  had  come  of  the  prophetic 
vision  and  were  therefore  entitled  to  respect  in  spite 
of  the  fact  that  they  had  been  smirched  and  polluted 
by  speculators. 

That  autumn  men  and  women  who  had  come  to 
Mrs.  Kinzie's  party  in  jewels  and  in  purple  and  fine 
linen  had  left  or  turned  their  hands  to  hard  labor.  The 
Kelsos  suffered  real  distress,  the  schools  being  closed 
and  the  head  of  the  house  having  taken  to  his  bed  with 
illness.  Bim  went  to  work  as  a  seamstress  and  with 
the  help  of  Mrs.  Kinzie  and  Mrs.  Hubbard  was  able 
to  keep  the  family  from  want.  The  nursing  and  the 
care  of  the  baby  soon  broke  the  health  of  Mrs.  Kelso, 
never  a  strong  woman.  Bim  came  home  from  her 
work  one  evening  and  found  her  mother  ill. 

"Cheer  up,  my  daughter,"  said  Jack.  "An  old 
friend  of  ours  has  returned  to  the  city.  He  is  a  rich 
man — an  oasis  in  the  desert  of  poverty.  He  has 
loaned  me  a  hundred  dollars  in  good  coin." 

"Who  has  done  this?"  Bim  asked. 

"Mr.  Lionel  Davis.  He  has  just  come  from  New 
Orleans.  He  is  a  successful  speculator  in  grain." 

"We  must  not  take  his  money,"  said  Bim. 

"I  had  a  long  talk  with  him,"  Kelso  went  on.  "He 
has  explained  that  unfortunate  incident  of  the  horse. 
It  was  a  bit  of  offhand  folly  born  of  an  anxious  mo- 
ment" 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  319 

"But  the  man  wants  to  marry  me." 

"He  said  nothing  of  such  a  purpose." 

"He  will  be  in  no  hurry  about  that,"  said  Bim.  "He 
is  a  shrewd  operator.  Every  one  hates  him.  They 
say  that  he  knew  what  was  coming  when  he  sold  out." 

That  evening  Bim  wrote  a  long  letter  to  Samson 
Tray  lor  telling  of  the  evil  days  which  had  come  to 
them.  This  letter,  now  in  the  possession  of  a  great 
grandson  of  Samson  and  Sarah  Traylor,  had  a  singu- 
lar history.  It  reached  the  man  to  whom  it  was  ad- 
dressed in  the  summer  of  1844.  It  was  found  with 
many  others  that  summer  in  Tazewell  County  under 
a  barn  which  its  owner  was  removing.  It  brought 
to  mind  the  robbery  of  the  stage  from  Chicago,  south 
of  the  sycamore  woods,  in  the  autumn  of  '37,  by  a 
man  who  had  ridden  with  the  driver  from  Chicago  and 
who,  it  was  thought,  had  been  in  collusion  with  him. 
A  curious  feature  of  the  robbery  had  been  revealed 
by  the  discovery  of  the  mail  sack.  It  was  unopened, 
its  contents  undisturbed,  its  rusty  padlock  still  in 
place.  The  perpetrator  of  the  crime  had  not  soiled 
his  person  with  any  visible  evidence  of  guilt  and  so 
was  never  apprehended. 

Then  for  a  time  Bim  entered  upon  great  trials.  Jack 
Kelso  weakened.  Burning  with  fever,  his  mind  wan- 
dered in  the  pleasant  paths  he  loved  and  saw  in  its 
fancy  the  deeds  of  Ajax  and  Achilles  and  the  topless 
towers  of  Illium  and  came  not  back  again  to  the  vul- 


320  'A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

gar  and  prosaic  details  of  life.  The  girl  knew  not 
what  to  do.  A  funeral  was  a  costly  thing.  She  had 
no  money.  The  Kinzies  had  gone  on  a  hunting  trip 
in  Wisconsin.  Mrs.  Hubbard  was  ill  and  the  Kelsos 
already  much  in  her  debt.  Mr.  Lionel  Davis  came. 

He  was  a  good-looking  young  man  of  twenty-nine, 
those  days,  rather  stout  and  of  middle  stature  with 
dark  hair  and  eyes.  He  was  dressed  in  the  height  of 
fashion.  He  used  to  boast  that  he  had  only  one  vice — 
diamonds.  But  he  had  ceased  to  display  them  on  his 
shirt-front  or  his  fingers.  He  carried  them  in  his 
pockets  and  showed  them  by  the  glittering  handful 
to  his  friends.  They  had  come  to  him  through  trad- 
ing in  land  where  they  were  the  accepted  symbol  of 
success  and  money  was  none  too  plentiful.  He  had 
melted  their  settings  and  turned  them  into  coin.  The 
stones  he  kept  as  a  kind  of  surplus — a  half  hidden  evi- 
dence of  wealth  and  of  superiority  to  the  temptation 
to  vulgar  display.  Mr.  Davis  was  a  calculating,  mas- 
terful, keen-minded  man,  with  a  rather  heavy  jaw. 
In  his  presence  Bim  was  afraid  for  her  soul  that  night. 
He  was  gentle  and  sympathetic.  He  offered  to  lend 
her  any  amount  she  needed.  She  made  no  answer  but 
sat  trying  to  think  what  she  would  best  do.  The  Tray- 
lors  had  paid  no  attention  to  her  letter  although  a 
month  had  passed  since  it  was  written. 

In  a  moment  she  rose  and  gave  him  her  hand. 

"It  is  very  kind  of  you,"  said  she.     "If  you  can 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  321 

spare  me  five  hundred  dollars  for  an  indefinite  time  I 
will  take  it." 

"Let  me  lend  you  a  thousand,"  he  urged.  "I  can 
do  it  without  a  bit  of  inconvenience." 

"I  think  that  five  hundred  will  be  enough,"  she 
said. 

It  carried  her  through  that  trouble  and  into  others 
of  which  her  woman's  heart  had  found  abundant  signs 
in  the  attitude  of  Mr.  Davis.  He  gave  the  most  assid- 
uous attention  to  the  comfort  of  Bim  and  her  moth- 
er. He  had  had  a  celebrated  physician  come  down 
from  Milwaukee  to  see  Mrs,  Kelso  and  had  paid  the 
bill  in  advance.  He  bought  a  new  and  wonderful 
swinging  crib  of  burnished  steel  for  the  baby. 

"I  can  not  let  you  be  doing  these  things  for  us," 
Bim  said  one  evening  when  he  had  called  to  see  them. 

"And  I  can  not  help  loving  you  and  doing  the  little 
I  can  to  express  it,"  he  answered.  "There  is  no  use 
in  my  trying  to  keep  it  from  you  when  I  find  myself 
lying  awake  nights  planning  for  your  comfort.  I 
would  like  to  make  every  dollar  I  have  tell  you  in  some 
way  that  I  love  you.  That's  how  I  feel  and  you  might 
as  well  know  it." 

"You  have  been  kind  to  us,"  Bim  answered.  "We 
feel  it  very  deeply  but  I  can  not  let  you  talk  to  me  like 
that.  I  am  a  married  woman." 

"We  can  fix  that  all  right.  It  will  be  easy  for  you 
to  get  a  divorce." 


322  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

"But  I  do  not  love  you,  Mr.  Davis." 

"Let  me  try  to  make  you  love  me,"  he  pleaded.  "Is 
there  any  reason  why  I  shouldn't?" 

"Yes.  If  there  were  no  other  reason,  I  love  a  young 
soldier  who  is  fighting  in  the  Seminole  War  in  Florida 
under  Colonel  Taylor." 

"Well,  at  least,  you  can  let  me  take  the  place  of 
your  father  and  shield  you  from  trouble  when  I  can." 

"You  are  a  most  generous  and  kindly  man!"  Bim 
exclaimed  with  tears  in  her  eyes. 

So  he  seemed  to  be,  but  he  was  one  of  those  men 
who  weave  a  spell  like  that  of  an  able  actor.  He  ex- 
cited temporary  convictions  that  began  to  change  as 
soon  as  the  curtain  fell.  He  was  in  fact  a  performer. 
That  little  midnight  scene  at  the  City  Hotel  had  sound- 
ed the  key-note  of  his  character.  He  was  no  reckless 
villain  of  romance.  If  he  instigated  the  robbery  of 
the  south-bound  mail  wagon,  of  which  the  writer  of 
this  little  history  has  no  shadow  of  doubt,  he  was  so 
careful  about  it  that  no  evidence  which  would  satisfy 
a  jury  has  been  discovered  to  this  day. 

On  account  of  the  continued  illness  of  her  mother 
Bim  was  unable  to  resume  her  work  in  the  academy. 
She  took  what  sewing  she  could  do  at  home  and 
earned  enough  to  solve  the  problems  of  each  day. 
But  the  payment  coming  due  on  the  house  in  De- 
cember loomed  ahead  of  them.  It  was  natural,  in 
the  circumstances,  that  Mrs.  Kelso  should  like  Mr. 
Davis  and  favor  his  aims.  Now  and  then  he  came 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  323 

and  sat  with  her  of  an  evening  while  Bim  went  out 
to  the  shops — an  act  of  accommodation  which  various 
neighbor  women  were  ever  ready  to  perform. 

Mrs.  Kelso's  health  had  improved  slowly  so  that 
she  was  able  then  to  spend  most  of  each  day  in  her 
chair. 

One  evening  when  Davis  sat  alone  with  her,  she 
told  him  the  story  of  Bim  and  Harry  Needles — a  bit 
of  knowledge  he  was  glad  to  have.  Their  talk  was 
interrupted  by  the  return  of  Bim.  She  was  in  a  cheer- 
ful mood.  When  Mr.  Davis  had  gone  she  said  to  her 
mother : 

"I  think  our  luck  has  turned.  Here's  a  letter  from 
John  T.  Stuart.  The  divorce  has  been  granted." 

"Thank  the  Lord,"  Mrs.  Kelso  exclaimed.  "Long 
ago  I  knew  bad  luck  was  coming;  since  the  day  your 
father  carried  an  axe  through  the  house." 

"Pshaw !    I  don't  believe  in  that  kind  of  nonsense." 

"My  father  would  sooner  break  his  leg  than  carry 
an  edged  tool  through  the  house,"  Mrs.  Kelso  affirmed. 
"Three  times  I  have  known  it  to  bring  sickness.  I 
hope  a  change  has  come." 

"No.  Bad  luck  comes  when  you  carry  all  your 
money  through  the  house  and  spend  it  for  land.  I 
am  going  to  write  to  Harry  and  tell  him  to  hurry  home 
and  marry  me  if  he  wants  to.  Don't  say  a  word  about 
the  divorce  to  our  friend  Davis.  I  want  to  make  him 
keep  his  distance.  It  is  hard  enough  now." 

Before  she  went  to  bed  that  night  she  wrote  a  long 


324  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

letter  to  Harry  and  one  to  Abe  Lincoln  thanking  him 
for  his  part  in  the  matter  and  telling  him  of  her  fath- 
er's death,  of  the  payment  coming  due  and  of  the  hard 
times  they  were  suffering.  Two  weeks  passed  and 
brought  no  answer  from  Mr.  Lincoln. 

The  day  before  the  payment  came  due  in  Decem- 
ber, a  historic  letter  from  Tampa,  Fla.,  was  published 
in  The  Democrat.  It  was  signed  "Robert  Deming, 
private,  Tenth  Cavalry."  It  gave  many  details  of  the 
campaign  in  the  Everglades  in  which  the  famous  scout 
Harry  Needles  and  seven  of  his  comrades  had  been 
surrounded  and  slain.  When  Mr.  Davis  called  at  the 
little  home  in  La  Salle  Street  that  evening  he  found 
Bim  in  great  distress. 

"I  throw  up  my  hands,"  she  said.  "I  can  not  stand 
any  more.  We  shall  be  homeless  to-morrow." 

"No,  not  that — so  long  as  I  live,"  he  answered.  "I 
have  bought  the  claim.  You  can  pay  me  when  you 
get  ready." 

He  was  very  tender  and  sympathetic. 

When  he  had  left  them  Bim  said  to  her  mother: 
"Our  old  friends  do  not  seem  to  care  what  becomes 
of  us.  I  have  no  thought  now  save  for  you  and  the 
baby.  I'll  do  whatever  you  think  best  for  you  two. 
I  don't  care  for  myself.  My  heart  is  as  dead  as 
Harry's." 


CHAPTER  XX 

WHICH  TELLS  OF  THE  SETTLING  OF  ABE  LINCOLN  AND 
THE  TRAYLORS  IN  THE  VILLAGE  OF  SPRINGFIELD 
AND  OF  SAMSON'S  SECOND  VISIT  TO  CHICAGO. 

BIM'S  judgment  of  her  old  friends  was  ill  found- 
ed. It  was  a  slow  time  in  which  she  lived.  The  foot 
of  the  horse,  traveling  and  often  mired  in  a  rough 
muddy  highway,  was  its  swiftest  courier.  Letters  car- 
ried by  horses  or  slow  steamboats  were  the  only  media 
of  communication  between  people  separated  by  wide 
distances.  The  learned  wrote  letters  of  astonishing 
length  and  literary  finish — letters  which  were  passed 
from  hand  to  hand  and  read  aloud  in  large  and  small 
assemblies.  They  presented  the  news  and  the  com- 
ment it  inspired.  In  these  old  and  generous  letters, 
which  antedate  the  railroad  and  the  telegraph,  critics 
have  discovered  one  of  the  most  delicate  and  inform- 
ing of  the  lost  arts — the  epistolary.  But  to  the  av- 
erage hand,  wearied  by  heavy  tools,  the  lightsome 
goose  quill,  committing  its  owner  to  dubious  spelling 
and  clumsy  penmanship,  and  exposing  the  interior  of 
his  intellect,  was  a  dreaded  thing.  When  old  Black 
Hawk  signed  a  treaty  he  was  wont  to  say  that  he  had 
"touched  it  with  the  goose  quill."  He  made  only  a 
little  mark  whereupon  a  kind  of  sanctity  was  imparted 


326  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

to  the  document.  Every  man  unaccustomed  to  its  use 
stood  in  like  awe  of  this  implement.  When  he  "took 
his  pen  in  hand"  he  had  entered  upon  an  adventure 
so  unusual  that  his  letter  always  mentioned  it  as  if, 
indeed,  it  were  an  item  of  news  not  to  be  overlooked. 
So  it  is  easy  to  understand  that  many  who  had 
traveled  far  were  as  the  dead,  in  a  measure,  to  the 
friends  they  had  left  behind  them  and  that  those 
separated  by  only  half  a  hundred  miles  had  to  be  very 
enterprising  to  keep  acquainted. 

In  March  Abe  Lincoln  had  got  his  license  to  prac- 
tise law.  On  his  return  from  the  North  he  had  ridden 
to  Springfield  to  begin  his  work  as  a  lawyer  in  the 
office  of  John  T.  Stuart.  His  plan  was  to  hire  and 
furnish  a  room  and  get  his  meals  at  the  home  of  his 
friend,  Mr.  William  'Butler.  He  went  to  the  store  of 
Joshua  Speed  to  buy  a  bed  and  some  bedding-.  He 
found  that  they  would  cost  seventeen  dollars. 

"The  question  is  whether  you  would  trust  a  man 
owing  a  national  debt  and  without  an  asset  but  good 
intentions  and  a  license  to  practise  law  for  so  much 
money,"  said  Honest  Abe.  "I  don't  know  when  I 
could  pay  you." 

Speed  was  also  a  young  man  of  good  intentions  and 
a  ready  sympathy  for  those  who  had  little  else.  He 
had  heard  of  the  tall  representative  from  Sangamon 
County. 

"I  have  a  plan  which  will  give  you  a  bed  for  noth- 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  327 

ing  if  you  would  care  to  share  my  room  above  the 
store  and  sleep  with  me,"  he  answered. 

"I'm  much  obliged  but  for  you  it's  quite  a  contract/' 

"You're  rather  long,"  Speed  laughed. 

"Yes,  I  could  lick  salt  off  the  top  of  your  hat.  I'm 
about  a  man  and  a  half  but  by  long  practice  I've 
learned  how  to  keep  the  half  out  of  the  way  of  other 
people.  They  say  that  when  Long  John  Wentworth 
got  to  Chicago  he  slept  with  his  -feet  sticking  out  of 
a  window  and  that  they  had  to  take  down  a  partition 
because  he  couldn't  stand  the  familiarity  of  the  wood- 
peckers, but  he  is  eight  inches  taller  than  I  am." 

"I'm  sure  we  shall  get  along  well  enough  together," 
said  Speed. 

They  went  up  to  the  room.  In  a  moment  Mr.  Lin- 
coln hurried  away  for  his  saddle-bags  and  returned 
shortly. 

"There  are  all  my  earthly  possessions,"  he  said  as 
he  threw  the  bags  on  the  floor. 

So  his  new  life  began  in  the  village  of  Springfield. 
Early  in  the  autumn  Samson  arrived  and  bought  a 
small  house  and  two  acres  of  land  on  the  edge  of  the 
village  and  returned  to  New  Salem  to  move  his  family 
and  furniture.  When  they  drove  along  the  top  of 
Salem  Hill  a  number  of  the  houses  were  empty  and 
deserted,  their  owners  having  moved  away.  Two  of 
the  stores  were  closed.  Only  ten  families  remained. 
They  stopped  at  Rutledge's  tavern  whose  entertain- 


328  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

ment  was  little  sought  those  days.  People  from  the 
near  houses  came  to  bid  them  good-by.  Dr.  John 
Allen  was  among  them. 

"Sorry  to  see  you  going,"  he  said.  "With  you  and 
Abe  and  Jack  Kelso  gone  it  has  become  a  lonely  place. 
There's  not  much  left  for  me  but  the  long  view  from 
the  end  of  the  hill  and  the  singing  in  the  prairie  grass." 

Pete  and  Colonel,  invigorated  by  their  long  rest, 
but  whitened  by  age  and  with  drooping  heads,  drew  the 
wagon.  Sambo  and  the  small  boy  rode  between  Sarah 
and  Samson.  Betsey  and  Josiah  walked  ahead  of  the 
wagon,  the  latter  leading  a  cow.  That  evening  they 
were  comfortably  settled  in  their  new  home.  Mov- 
ing was  not  such  a  complicated  matter  those  days. 
Abe  Lincoln  was  on  hand  to  bid  them  welcome  and 
help  get  their  goods  in  place.  He  had  borrowed  fire 
and  cut  some  wood  and  there  was  a  cheering  blaze 
in  the  fireplace  on  the  arrival  of  the  newcomers. 
When  the  beds  were  set  up  and  ready  for  the  night 
Sarah  made  some  tea  to  go  with  the  cold  victuals  she 
had  brought.  Mr.  Lincoln  ate  with  them  and  told 
of  his  new  work. 

"So  far  I've  had  nothing  more  important  to  do  than 
proving  damage  in  cases  of  assault  and  battery,"  he 
said.  "There  is  many  a  man  who,  when  he  thinks 
he  has  been  wronged,  proceeds  to  take  it  out  of  the 
hide  of  the  other  feller.  The  hides  of  Illinois  have 
suffered  a  good  deal  in  that  way.  It  is  very  annoying. 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  329 

Generally  I  stand  for  the  hides.  The)'  need  a  friend 
and  protector.  When  people  take  the  law  in  their 
hands  it  gets  badly  worn  and  mussed  up.  In  a  little 
while  there  isn't  any  law.  Next  week  I  begin  my  first 
turn  on  the  circuit." 

"It  seems  good  to  see  folks  around  us,"  said  Sarah. 
"I  believe  we  shall  enjoy  ourselves  here." 

"It's  a  wonderful  place,"  Lincoln  declared  with  en- 
thusiasm. "There  are  fine  stores  and  churches  and  so- 
ciables and  speeches  and  theater  shows." 

"Yes.     It's  bigger  than  Vergennes,"  said  Sarah. 

"And  you're  goin'  to  have  time  to  enjoy  it,"  Sam- 
son broke  in.  "There'll  be  no  farm  work  and  Betsey 
and  Josiah  are  old  enough  to  be  quite  a  help." 

"How  the  girl  is  developing!"  Abe  exclaimed.  "I 
believe  she  will  look  like  Bim  in  a  year  or  two." 

Betsey  was  growing  tall  and  slim.  She  had  the 
blonde  hair  and  fair  skin  of  Samson  and  the  dark  eyes 
of  her  mother.  Josiah  had  grown  to  be  a  bronzed, 
sturdy,  good-looking  lad,  very  shy  and  sensitive. 

"There's  a  likely  boy!"  said  Samson  as  he  clapped 
the  shoulder  of  his  eldest  son.  "He's  got  a  good  heart 
in  him." 

"You'll  spoil  him  with  praise,"  Sarah  protested  and 
then  asked  as  she  turned  to  the  young  statesman. 
"Have  you  heard  from  Bim  or  any  of  the  Kelsos?" 

"Not  a  word.    I  often  think  of  them." 

"There's  been  a  letter  in  the  candle  every  night  for 


330  A'  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

a  week  or  so,  but  we  haven't  heard  a  word  from  Harry 
or  from  them,"  said  Sarah,  "I  wonder  how  they're 
getting  along  in  these  hard  times." 

"I  told  Jack  to  let  me  know  if  I  could  do  anything 
to  help,"  Samson  assured  them. 

Sarah  turned  to  Abe  Lincoln  with  a  smile  and  said : 
"As  we  were  coming  through  the  village  Mary  Owens 
asked  me  to  tell  you  that  on  account  of  the  hard  times 
she  was  not  going  to  have  a  public  wedding." 

The  chairman  of  the  finance  committee  laughed  and 
answered:  "That  old  joke  is  still  alive.  She  writes 
me  now  and  then  and  tells  me  what  she  is  doing  in 
the  way  of  preparation.  It's  really  a  foolish  little  farce 
we  have  been  playing  in — a  kind  of  courtship  to  avoid 
marriage.  We  have  gone  too  far  with  it." 

A  bit  later  he  wrote  a  playful  letter  to  Mary  and 
told  her  that  there  was  so  much  flourishing  about  in 
carriages  and  the  like  in  Springfield  he  could  not 
recommend  it  to  a  lady  of  good  sense  as  a  place  of 
residence.  He  said  that  owing  to  certain  faults  in  his 
disposition  he  could  not  recommend  himself  as  a  hus- 
band; that  he  felt  sure  she  could  never  be  happy  with 
him.  But  he  manfully  offered  to  marry  her  as  soon 
as  his  circumstances  would  allow  if,  after  serious  con- 
sideration, she  decided  that  she  cared  to  accept  him. 
It  was,  on  the  whole,  one  of  the  most  generous  acts 
in  the  history  of  human  affairs. 

There  is  some  evidence  that  Mary  was  displeased 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  331 

with  these  and  other  lines  in  the  little  drama  and 
presently  rang  down  the  curtain.  Some  of  the  spec- 
tators were  informed  by  her  that  Abe  Lincoln  was 
crude  and  awkward  and  without  a  word  to  please 
a  lady  of  her  breeding.  But  she  had  achieved  the 
credit,  with  certain  people,  of  having  rejected  a  young 
man  for  whom  great  honors  were  thought  to  be  in 
store. 

Late  in  November  Mr.  Lincoln  went  out  on  the 
circuit  with  the  distinguished  John  T.  Stuart  who  had 
taken  him  into  partnership.  Bim's  letter  to  him  bears 
an  endorsement  on  its  envelope  as  follows : 

"This  letter  was  forwarded  from  Vandalia  the  week 
I  went  out  on  the  circuit  and  remained  unopened  in 
our  office  until  my  return  six  weeks  later. — A.  Lin- 
coln." 

The  day  of  his  return  he  went  to  Sarah  and  Sam- 
son with  the  letter. 

"I'll  get  a  good  horse  and  start  for  Chicago  to- 
morrow morning,"  said  Samson.  "They  have  had  a 
double  blow.  Did  you  read  that  Harry  had  been 
killed?" 

"Harry  killed!"  Mr.  Lincoln  exclaimed.  "You 
don't  mean  to  tell  me  that  Harry  has  been  killed  ?" 

"The  Chicago  Democrat  says  so  but  we  don't  be- 
lieve it,"  said  Samson.  "Here's  the  article  copied 
into  The  Sangamon  Journal.  Read  it  and  then  I'll 
tell  you  why  I  don't  think  it's  so." 


332  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

Abe  Lincoln  read  the  article. 

"You  see  it  was  dated  in  Tampa,  November  the 
fifth,"  said  Samson.  "Before  we  had  read  that  article 
we  had  received  a  letter  from  Harry  dated  Novem- 
ber the  seventh.  In  the  letter  he  says  he  is  all  right 
and  I  calculate  that  he  ought  to  know  as  much  about 
it  as  any  one." 

"Thank  God!  Then  it's  a  mistake,"  said  Lincoln. 
"We  can't  afford  to  lose  Harry.  I  feel  rather  poor 
"with  Jack  Kelso  gone.  It  will  comfort  me  to  do  what 
I  can  for  his  wife  and  daughter.  I'll  give  you  every 
dollar  I  can  spare  to  take  to  them." 

A  moment  of  sorrowful  silence  followed. 

"I'll  never  forget  the  kindly  soul  of  Jack  or  his 
wit  or  his  sayings,  many  of  which  are  in  my  note- 
book," said  Lincoln  as  <he  sat  looking  sadly  into  the 
fire. 

They  talked  much  of  the  great  but  humble  man 
who  had  so  loved  honor  and  beauty  and  whose  life 
had  ended  in  the  unholy  turmoil  of  the  new  city. 

"The  country  is  in  great  trouble,"  was  a  remark 
of  Abe  Lincoln  inspired  by  the  reflections  of  the  hour. 
"We  tried  to  allay  it  in  the  special  session  of  July.  Our 
efforts  have  done  no  good.  The  ail  is  too  deep  seated. 
We  must  first  minister  to  a  mind  diseased  and  pluck 
from  the  heart  a  rooted  sorrow.  You  were  right  about 
it,  Samson.  We  have  been  dreaming.  Some  one  must 
invent  a  new  system.  Wildcat  money  will  do  no  good. 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  333 

These  big  financial  problems  are  beyond  my  knowledge. 
I  don't  know  how  to  think  in  those  terms.  Next  ses- 
sion I  propose  to  make  a  clean  breast  of  it.  We're 
all  wrong  but  I  fear  that  not  all  of  us  will  be  brave 
enough  to  say  so." 

Samson  hired  horses  for  the  journey  and  set  but 
early  next  morning  with  his  son,  Josiah,  bound  for 
the  new  city.  The  boy  had  begged  to  go  and  both 
Samson  and  Sarah  thought  it  would  be  good  for  him 
to  take  a  better  look  at  Illinois  than  his  geography 
afforded. 

"Joe  is  a  good  boy,"  his  mother  said  as  she  em- 
braced him.  He  was,  indeed,  a  gentle-hearted,  will- 
ing-handed, brown-eyed  youth  who  had  been  a  great 
help  to  his  father.  Every  winter  morning  he  and 
Betsey  had  done  the  chores  and  ridden  on  the  back 
of  Colonel  to  Menton  Graham's  school  where  they 
had  made  excellent  progress. 

Joe  and  his  father  set  out  on  a  cold  clear  morning  in 
February.  They  got  to  Brimstead's  in  time  for  din- 
ner. 

"How  d'y  do?"  Samson  shouted  as  Henry  came  to 
the  door. 

"Better!"  the  latter  answered.  He  put  his  hand  on 
Samson's  pommel  and  said  in  a  confidential  tone: 
"El  Dorado  was  one  of  the  wickedest  cities  in  his- 
tory. It  was  like  Tyre  and  Babylon.  It  robbed  me. 
Look  at  that  pile  of  stakes." 


334  'A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

Samson  saw  a  long  cord  of  stakes  along  the  road 
in  the  edge  of  the  meadow. 

"They  are  the  teeth  of  my  city,"  said  Brimstead  in 
a  low  voice.  "I've  drawed  'em  out.  They  ain't  goin' 
to  bite  me  no  more." 

"They  are  the  towers  and  steeples  of  El  Dorado," 
Samson  laughed.  "Have  any  of  the  notes  been 
paid?" 

"Not  one  and  I  can't  get  a  word  from  my  broker 
about  the  men  who  drew  the  notes — who  they  are  or 
where  they  are." 

"I'm  going  to  Chicago  and  if  you  wish  I'll  try  to 
find  him  and  see  what  he  says." 

"That's  just  what  I  wish,"  said  Brimstead.  "His 
name  is  Lionel  Davis.  His  address  is  14  South  Water 
Street.  He  put  the  opium  in  our  pipes  here  in  Taze- 
well  County.  It  was  his  favorite  county.  He  spent 
'two  days  with  us  here.  I  sold  him  all  the  land  I  had 
on  the  river  shore  and  he  gave  me  his  note  for  it." 

"If  you'll  let  me  take  the  note  I'll  see  what  can  be 
done  to  get  the  money,"  Samson  answered. 

"Say,  I'll  tell  ye,"  Brimstead  went  on.  "It's  for 
five  thousand  dollars  and  I  don't  suppose  it's  worth 
the  paper  it  was  wrote  on.  You  take  it  and  if  you 
find  it's  no  good  you  lose  it  just  as  careful  as  you  can. 
I  don't  want  to  see  it  again.  Come  into  the  house. 
The  woman  is  making  a  johnny-cake  and  fryin'  some 
sausage." 

They  had  a  happy  half-hour  at  the  table,  Mrs.  Brim- 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  335 

stead  being  in  better  spirits  since  her  husband  had 
got  back  to  his  farming.  Annabel,  her  form  filling 
with  the  grace  and  charm  of  womanhood,  was  there  and 
more  comely  than  ever. 

They  had  been  speaking  of  Jack  Kelso's  death. 
"I  heard  him  say  once  that  when  he  saw  a  beautiful 
young  face  it  reminded  him  of  noble  singing  and  the 
odor  of  growing  corn,"  said  Samson. 

"I'd  rather  see  the  face,"  Joe  remarked,  whereupon 
they  all  laughed  and  the  boy  blushed  to  the  roots  of 
his  blond  hair. 

"He's  become  a  man  of  good  judgment,"  said  Brim- 
stead. 

Annabel's  sister  Jane  who  had  clung  to  the  wagon 
in  No  Santa  Claus  Land  was  a  bright-eyed,  merry- 
hearted  girl  of  twelve.     The  boy  Robert  was  a  shy, 
good-looking  lad  a  little  older  than  Josiah. 
"Well,  what's  the  news  ?"  Samson  asked. 
"Nothin'  has  happened  since  we  saw  you  but  the  fall 
of  El  Dorado,"  Brimstead  answered. 

"There  was  the  robbery  of  the  mail  stage  last  sum- 
mer a  few  miles  north  of  here,"  said  Mrs.  Brimstead. 
"Every  smitch  of  the  mail  was  stolen.  I  guess  that's 
the  reason  we  haven't  had  no  letter  from  Vermont  in 
a  year." 

"Maybe  that's  why  we  haven't  heard  from  home," 
Samson  echoed. 

"Why  don't  you  leave  Joe  here  while  you're  gone 
to  Chicago?"  Annabel  asked. 


336  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

"It  would  help  his  education  to  rassle  around  with 
Robert  an'  the  girls,"  said  Brimstead. 

"Would  you  like  to  stay?"  Samson  asked. 

"I  wouldn't  mind,"  said  Josiah  who,  on  the  lonely 
prairie,  had  had  few  companions  of  his  own  age. 

So  it  happened  that  Samson  went  on  alone.  As  he 
was  leaving,  Brimstead  came  close  to  his  side  and 
whispered : 

"Don't  you  ever  let  a  city  move  into  you  and  settle 
down  an'  make  itself  to  home.  If  you  do  you  want 
to  keep  your  eye  on  its  leading  citizens." 

"Nobody  can  tell  what'll  happen  when  he's  dream- 
in'/'  Samson  remarked  with  a  laugh  as  he  rode  away, 
waving  his  hand  to  the  boy  Josiah  who  stood  looking 
up  the  road  with  a  growing  sense  of  loneliness. 

Near  the  sycamore  woods  Samson  came  upon  a 
gray-haired  man  lying  by  the  roadside  with  a  horse 
tethered  near  him.  The  stranger  was  sick  with  a 
fever.  Samson  got  down  from  his  horse. 

"What  can  I  do  for  you?"  he  asked. 

"The  will  of  God,"  the  stranger  feebly  answered. 
"I  prayed  for  help  and  you  have  come.  I  am  Peter 
Cartwright,  the  preacher.  I  was  so  sick  and  weak  I 
had  to  get  off  my  horse  and  lie  down.  If  you  had 
not  come  I  think  that  I  should  have  died  here." 

Samson  gave  him  some  of  the  medicine  for  chills 
and  fever  which  he  always  carried  in  his  pocket,  and 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  337 

water  from  his  canteen.  The  sun  shone  warm  but 
the  ground  was  damp  and  cold  and  there  was  a  chilly 
breeze.  He  wrapped  the  stricken  man  in  his  coat  and 
sat  down  beside  him  and  rubbed  his  aching  head. 

"Is  there  any  house  where  I  could  find  'help  and 
shelter  for  you?"  he  asked  presently. 

"No,  but  I  feel  better — glory  to  God!"  said  the 
preacher.  "If  you  can  help  me  to  the  back  of  my  horse 
I  will  try  to  ride  on  with  you.  There  is  to  be  a  quar- 
terly meeting  ten  miles  up  the  road  to-night.  With 
the  help  of  God  I  must  get  there  and  tell  the  people 
of  His  goodness  and  mercy  to  the  children  of  men. 
Nothing  shall  keep  me  from  my  duty.  I  may  save  a 
dozen  souls  from  hell — who  knows  ?" 

Samson  was  astonished  at  the  iron  will  and  holy 
zeal  of  this  lion-hearted,  strong-armed,  fighting 
preacher  of  the  prairies  of  whom  he  had  heard  much. 
He  looked  at  the  rugged  head  covered  with  thick, 
bushy,  gray  'hair,  at  the  deep-lined  face,  smooth- 
shaven,  save  for  a  lock  in  front  of  each  ear,  with  its 
keen,  dark  eyes  and  large,  firm  mouth  and  jaw.  Sam- 
son lifted  the  preacher  and  set  him  on  the  back  of 
his  horse. 

"God  blessed  you  with  great  strength,"  said  the 
latter.  "Are  you  a  Christian  ?" 

"I  am." 

They  rode  on  in  silence.     Presently   Samsort  oS- 


338  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

served  that  the  preacher  was  actually  asleep  and  snor- 
ing in  the  saddle.  They  proceeded  for  an  hour  or 
more  in  this  manner.  When  the  horses  were  wallow- 
ing through  a  swale  the  preacher  awoke. 

"Glory  be  to  God!"  he  shouted.  "I  am  better.  I 
shall  be  able  to  preach  to-night.  A  little  farther  on  is 
the  cabin  of  Brother  Cawkins.  He  has  been  terribly 
pecked  up  by  a  stiff-necked,  rebellious  wife.  We'll 
stop  there  for  a  cup  of  tea  and  if  she  raises  a  rumpus 
you'll  see  me  take  her  by  the  horns." 

Mrs.  Cawkins  was  a  lean,  sallow,  stern-eyed  wom- 
an of  some  forty  years  with  a  face  like  bitter  herbs; 
her  husband  a  mild  mannered,  shiftless  man  who,  en- 
couraged by  Mr.  Cartwright,  had  taken  to  riding 
through  the  upper  counties  as  a  preacher — a  course 
of  conduct  of  which  his  wife  heartily  disapproved. 
Solicited  by  her  husband  she  sullenly  made  tea  for  the 
travelers.  When  it  had  been  drunk  the  two  preachers 
knelt  in  a  corner  of  the  room  and  Mr.  Cartwright  be- 
gan to  pray  in  a  loud  voice.  Mrs.  Cawkins  shoved  the 
table  about  and  tipped  over  the  chairs  and  dropped 
the  rolling-pin  as  a  counter  demonstration.  The  fam- 
ous circuit  rider,  being  in  no  way  put  out  by  this, 
she  dashed  a  dipper  of  cold  water  on  the  head  of  her 
husband.  The  praying  stopped.  Mr.  Cartwright  rose 
from  his  knees  and  commanded  her  to  desist.  On 
her  declaration  that  she  would  not  he  laid  hold  of  the 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  339 

woman  and  forced  her  out  of  the  door  and  closed  and 
bolted  it  and  resumed  his  praying. 

Having  recorded  this  remarkable  incident  in  his 
diary  Samson  writes: 

"Many  of  these  ignorant  people  in  the  lonely,  prairie 
cabins  are  like  children.  Cartwright  leads  them  on 
like  a  father  and  sometimes  with  the  strong-  hand.  If 
any  of  them  deserve  a  spanking  they  get  it.  He  and 
others  like  him  have  helped  to  keep  the  cabin  people 
clean  and  going  up  hill  instead  of  down.  They  have 
established  schools  and  missions  and  scattered  good 
books  and  comforted  sorrows  and  kindled  good  desire 
in  the  hearts  of  the  humble." 

As  they  were  leaving  Mr.  Cawkins  told  them  that 
the  plague  had  broken  out  in  the  settlement  on  Honey 
Creek,  where  the  quarterly  meeting  was  to  be  held, 
and  that  the  people  had  been  rapidly  "dyin'  off."  Sam- 
son knew  from  this  that  the  smallpox — a  dreaded  and 
terrible  scourge  of  pioneer  days — had  come  again. 

"It's  dangerous  to  go  there,"  said  Cawkins. 

"Where  is  sorrow  there  is  my  proper  place,"  Cart- 
wright  answered.  "Those  people  need  comfort  and  the 
help  of  God." 

"But  are  you  not  afraid  of  the  plague?"  Samson 
asked. 

"I  fear  only  the  wrath  of  my  Master." 

"I  got  a  letter  from  a  lady  there,"  Cawkins  went 
on.  "As  nigh  as  I  can  make  out  they  need  a  minister. 


340  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

I  can  read  print  handy  but  writin'  bothers  me.     You 
read  it,  brother." 

Mr.  Cartwright  took  the  letter  and  read  as  follows : 

"Dear  Sir :  Mr.  Barman  gave  me  your  name.  We 
need  a  minister  to  comfort  the  sick  and  help  bury  the 
dead.  It  is  a  good  deal  to  ask  of  you  but  if  you  feel 
like  taking  the  chance  of  coming  here  I  am  sure  you 
could  do  a  lot  of  good.  We  have  doctors  enough  and 
it  seems  a  pity  that  the  church  should  fail  these  people 
when  they  need  it  most.  The  ministers  in  Chicago 
seem  to  be  too  busy  to  come.  One  of  them  came  out 
for  a  funeral  and  unfortunately  took  the  disease.  If 
you  have  the  courage  to  come  you  would  win  the  grati- 
tude of  many  people.  For  a  month  I  have  been  taking 
care  of  the  sick  and'  up  to  now  no  harm  has  come  to 
me.  Yours  respectfully, 

"Bim  Kelso." 

"  'A  man's  heart  deviseth  his  way  but  the  Lord  di- 
recteth  his  steps,'  "  said  Cartwright.  "For  three  days 
I  have  felt  that  He  was  leading  me." 

"I  begin  to  think  that  He  has  been  leading  me," 
Samson  declared.  "Bim  Kelso  is  the  person  I  seek." 

"I  would  have  gone  but  my  wife  took  on  so  I 
couldn't  get  away,"  said  Cawkins. 

"I'll  come  back  some  day  soon  and  you  and  I  will 
pry  the  Devil  out  of  her  with  the  crowbar  of  God's 
truth  and  mercy,"  Cartwright  assured  him  as  he  and 
Samson  took  the  road  to  the  north. 

On  their  way  to  the  Honey  Creek  settlement  the 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  341 

lion-hearted  minister  told  of  swimming  through  flood- 
ed rivers,  getting  lost  on  the  plains  and  suffering  for 
food  and  water,  of  lying  down  to  rest  at  night  in  wet 
clothes  with  no  shelter  but  the  woods,  of  hand  to 
hand  rights  with  rowdies  who  endeavored  to  sell  drink 
or  create  a  disturbance  at  his  meetings.  Such  was 
the  zeal  for  righteousness  woven  by  many  hands  into 
the  fabric  of  the  West.  A  little  before  sundown  they 
reached  the  settlement. 

Samson  asked  a  man  in  the  road  if  he  knew  where 
they  could  find  the  nurse  Bim  Kelso. 

"Do  ye  mean  that  angel  o'  God  in  a  white  dress  that 
takes  keer  o'  the  sick  ?"  the  man  asked. 

"I  guess  that  would  be  Bim,"  said  Samson. 

"She's  over  in  yon'  house,"  the  other  answered, 
pointing  with  his  pipe  to  a  cabin  some  twenty  rods 
beyond  them.  "Thar's  two  children  sick  thar  an'  the 
mammy  dead  an'  buried  in  the  ground." 

"Is  the  plague  getting  worse?"  Cartwright  asked. 

"No,  I  reckon  it's  better.  Nobody  has  come  down 
since  the  day  before  yestiddy.  Thar's  the  doctor 
comin'.  He  kin  tell  ye." 

A  bearded  man  of  middle  age  was  approaching  them 
in  the  saddle. 

"Gentlemen,  you  must  not  stop  in  this  neighbor- 
hood," he  warned  them.  "There's  an  epidemic  of 
smallpox  here.  We  are  trying  to  control  it  and  every 
one  must  help." 


342  fA  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

"I  am  Peter  Cartwright — the  preacher  sent  of  God 
to  comfort  the  sick  and  bury  the  dead,"  said  Samson's 
companion. 

"We  welcome  you,  but  if  you  stop  here  you  will 
have  to  stay  until  the  epidemic  is  over." 

"That  I  am  prepared  to  do." 

"Then  I  shall  take  you  where  you  can  find  enter- 
tainment, such  as  it  is." 

"First,  this  man  wishes  to  speak  to  Miss  Kelso,  the 
nurse,"  said  Cartwright.  "He  is  a  friend  of  hers." 

"You  can  see  her  but  only  at  a  distance,"  the  Doc- 
tor answered.  "I  must  keep  you  at  least  twenty  feet 
away  from  her.  Come  with  me." 

They  proceeded  to  the  stricken  house.  The  Doc- 
tor entered  and  presently  Bim  came  out.  Her  eyes 
filled  with  tears  and  for  a  moment  she  could  not  speak. 
She  wore  a  white  dress  and  cap  and  was  pale  and 
weary.  "But  still  as  I  looked  at  her  I  thought  of  the 
saying  of  her  father  that  her  form  and  face  reminded 
him  of  the  singing  of  birds  in  the  springtime,  she 
looked  so  sweet  and  graceful,"  Samson  writes  in  his 
diary. 

"Why  didn't  you  let  me  know  of  your  troubles?" 
he  asked. 

"Early  last  summer  I  wrote  a  long  letter  to  you," 
she  answered. 

"It  didn't  reach  me.     One  day  in  June  the  stage 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  343 

was  robbed  of  its  mail  down  in  Tazewell  County. 
Your  letter  was  probably  on  that  stage." 

"Harry's  death  was  the  last  blow.  I  came  out  here 
to  get  away  from  my  troubles — perhaps  to  die.  I 
didn't  care." 

"Harry  is  not  dead,"  said  Samson. 

Her  right  hand  touched  her  forehead;  her  lips  fell 
apart ;  her  eyes  took  on  a  look  of  tragic  earneslness. 

"Not  dead!"  she  whispered. 

"He  is  ah've  and  well." 

Bim  staggered  toward  him  and  fell  to  her  knees 
and  lay  crouched  upon  the  ground,  in  the  dusky  twi- 
light, shaking  and  choked  with  sobs,  and  with  tears 
streaming  from  her  eyes  but  she  was  almost  as  silent 
as  the  shadow  of  the  coming  night.  She  looked  like 
one  searching  in  the  dust  for  something  very  precious. 
The  strong  heart  of  Samson  was  touched  by  the  sor- 
rowful look  of  her  so  that  he  could  not  speak. 

Soon  he  was  able  to  say  in  a  low,  trembling  voice : 

"In  every  letter  he  tells  of  his  love  for  you.  That 
article  in  the  paper  was  a  cruel  mistake." 

After  a  little  silence  Bim  rose  from  the  ground.  She 
stood,  for  a  moment,  wiping  her  eyes.  Her  form 
straightened  and  was  presently  erect.  Her  soul  re- 
sented the  injustice  she  had  suffered.  There  was  a 
wonderful  and  touching  dignity  in  her  voice  and  man- 
ner when  she  asked:  "Why  didn't  he  write  to  me?" 


344  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

"He  must  have  written  to  you." 

Sadly,  calmly,  thoughtfully,  she  spoke  as  she  stood 
looking  off  at  the  fading  glow  in  the  west : 

"It  is  terrible  how  things  can  work  together  to 
break  the  heart  and  will  of  a  woman.  Write  to  Harry 
and  tell  him  that  he  must  not  come  to  see  me  again. 
I  have  promised  to  many  another  man." 

"I  hope  it  isn't  Davis,"  said  Samson. 

"It  is  Davis." 

"I  don't  like  him.     I  don't  think  he's  honest." 

"But  he  has  been  wonderfully  kind  to  us.  With- 
out his  help  we  couldn't  have  lived.  We  couldn't  even 
have  given  my  father  a  decent  burial.  I  suppose  he 
has  his  faults.  I  no  longer  look  for  perfection  in 
human  beings." 

"Has  he  been  out  here  to  see  you  ?" 

"No." 

"And  he  won't  corne.  That  man  knows  how  to  keep 
out  of  danger.  I  don't  believe  you'll  marry  him." 

"Why?" 

"Because  I  intend  to  be  a  father  to  you  and  pay  all 
your  debts,"  said  Samson. 

The  Doctor  called  from  the  door  of  the  cabin. 

Bim  said:  "God  bless  you  and  Harry!"  as  she 
turned  away  to  take  up  her  task  again. 

That  night  both  of  them  began,  as  they  say,  to 
put  two  and  two  together.  While  he  rode  on  in  the 
growing  dusk  the  keen  intellect  of  Samson  saw  a 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  345 

convincing  sequence  of  circumstances — the  theft  of  the 
mail  sack,  the  false  account  of  Harry's  death,  the 
failure  of  his  letters  to  reach  their  destination,  and 
the  fact  that  Bini  had  accepted  money  from  Davis  in 
time  of  need.  A  strong  suspicion  of  foul  play  grew 
upon  him  and  he  began  to  consider  what  he  could  do 
in  the  matter. 

Having  forded  a  creek  he  caught  the  glow  of  q 
light  in  the  darkness  a  little  way  up  the  road.  It  was 
the  lighted  window  of  a  cabin,  before  whose  door  he 
stopped  his  horse  and  hallooed. 

"I  am  a  belated  and  hungry  traveler  on  my  way 
to  Chicago,"  he  said  to  the  man  who  presently  greeted 
him  from  the  open  doorway. 

"Have  you  come  through  Honey  Creek  settlement?" 
the  latter  asked. 

"Left  there  about  an  hour  ago." 

"Sorry,  mister,  but  I  can't  let  you  come  into  the 
house.  If  you'll  move  off  a  few  feet  I'll  lay  some  grub 
on  the  choppin'  block  an*  up  the  road  about  a  half-mile 
you'll  find  a  barn  with  some  hay  in  it  where  you  and 
your  horse  can  spend  the  night  under  cover." 

Samson  moved  away  and  soon  the  man  brought 
a  package  of  food  and  laid  it  on  the  block  and  ran 
back  to  the  door. 

"I'll  lay  a  piece  of  silver  on  the  block,"  Samson 
called. 

"Not  a  darned  cent,"  the  man  answered.     "I  hate 


346  A-  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

like  p'ison  to  turn  a  feller  away  in  the  night,  but  we're 
awful  skeered  here  with  children  in  the  house.  Good- 
by.  You  can't  miss  the  barn.  It's  close  ag'in'  the 
road." 

Samson  ate  his  luncheon  in  the  darkness,  as  he 
rode,  and  presently  came  upon  the  barn  and  unsad- 
dled and  hitched  and  fed  his  horse  in  one  end  of  it — 
the  beast  having  drunk  his  fill  at  the  creek  they  had 
lately  forded — and  lay  down  to  rest,  for  the  night, 
with  the  saddle  blanket  beneath  him  and  his  coat  for  a 
cover.  A  wind  from  the  north  began  to  wail  and 
whistle  through  the  cracks  in  the  barn  and  over  its 
roof  bringing  cold  weather.  Samson's  feet  and  legs 
had  been  wet  in  the  crossing  so  that  he  found  it  diffi- 
cult to  keep  warm.  He  crept  to  the  side  of  his  horse, 
which  had  lain  down,  and  found  a  degree  of  comfort  in 
the  heat  of  the  animal.  But  it  was  a  bad  night,  at 
best,  with  only  a  moment,  now  and  then,  of  a  sort 
of  one-eyed  sleep  in  it. 

"I've  had  many  a  long,  hard  night  but  this  is  the 
worst  of  them,"  Samson  thought. 

There's  many  a  bad  night  in  the  history  of  the  pio- 
neers, its  shadows  falling  on  lonely,  ill-marked  roads 
cut  by  rivers,  creeks  and  marshes  and  strung  through 
unnumbered  miles  of  wild  country.  Samson  was  up 
and  off  at  daylight  in  a  bitter  wind  and  six  inches  of 
snow.  It  was  a  kind  of  work  he  would  not  have  un- 
dertaken upon  any;  call  less  commanding  than  that  of 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  347 

friendship.  He  reached  Chicago  at  noon  having  had 
nothing  to  eat  that  day.  There  was  no  such  eager, 
noisy  crowd  in  the  streets  as  he  had  seen  before.  The 
fever  of  speculation  had  passed.  Some  of  the  stores 
were  closed;  he  counted  a  score  of  half-built  struc- 
tures getting  weather-stained  inside  and  out.  But 
there  were  many  people  on  the  main  thoroughfares, 
among  whom  were  Europeans  who  had  arrived  the 
autumn  before.  They  were  changing  but  the  marks 
of  the  yoke  were  still  upon  them.  In  Chicago  were  the 
vitals  of  the  West  and  they  were  very  much  alive  in 
spite  of  the  panic. 

Samson  bought  some  new  clothes  and  had  a  bath 
and  a  good  dinner  at  the  City  Hotel.  Then  he  went 
to  the  office  of  Mr.  Lionel  Davis.  There  to  his  sur- 
prise he  met  his  old  acquaintance,  Eli  Fredenberg, 
who  greeted  him  with  great  warmth  and  told  of  hav- 
ing settled  in  Chicago. 

A  well-dressed  young  man  came  out  of  an  inner 
office  and  informed  the  Jew  that  Mr.  Davis  could  not 
see  him  that  day. 

"I'd  like  to  see  Mr.  Davis,"  said  Samson  as  EH 
went  away. 

"I'm  Mr.  Davis's  secretary,"  the  young  man  politely 
informed  him. 

"What's  a  secretary?"  Samson  asked. 

"It's  a  man  who  helps  another  with  his  work." 

"I  don't  need  any  help  myself — thank  you,"  said 


348  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

Samson.  "You  tell  him  that  I've  got  some  money 
that  belongs  to  him  and  that  I'm  ready  to  deliver  it." 

The  young  man  disappeared  through  the  door  of 
the  private  office  and  soon  returned  and  conducted 
Samson  into  the  presence  of  Mr.  Davis  who  sat  at 
a  handsome  desk,  smoking,  in  a  room  with  fine  old 
mahogany  furnishings  brought  up  from  New  Orleans. 
The  two  men  recognized  each  other. 

"Well,  sir,  what  is  it  about?"  the  young  speculator 
demanded. 

"The  daughter  of  my  old  friend,  Jack  Kelso,  owes 
you  some  money  and  I  want  to  pay  it,"  said  Samson. 

"Oh,  that  is  a  matter  between  Miss  Kelso  and  me." 
Mr.  Davis  spoke  politely  and  with  a  smile. 

"Not  exactly — since  I  knew  about  it,"  Samson  an- 
swered. 

"I  refuse  to  discuss  her  affairs  with  you,"  Dav^s 
declared. 

"I  suppose  you  mistrust  me,"  said  Samson.  "Well, 
I've  offered  to  pay  you  and  I'm  going  to  make  it  plain 
to  them  that  they  don't  have  to  worry  any  more  about 
the  money  you  loaned  them." 

"Very  well,  I  bid  you  good  morning." 

"Don't  be  in  a  hurry,"  Samson  answered.  "I  have 
a  note  of  five  thousand  dollars  against  you.  It  is 
endorsed  to  me  by  Henry  Brimstead  and  I  want  to 
collect  it" 

"I  refuse  to  pay  it,"  Davis  promptly  answered. 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  349 

"Then  I  shall  have  to  put  it  in  the  hands  of  a  law- 
yer," said  Samson. 

"Put  it  where  you  like  but  don't  consume  any  more 
of  my  time." 

"But  you'll  have  to  hear  me  say  that  I  don't  think 
you're  honest." 

"I  have  heard  you,"  Davis  answered  calmly. 

Samson  withdrew  and  went  to  the  home  of  Mrs. 
Kelso.  He  found  her  with  Bim's  boy  in  her  lap — 
a  handsome  little  lad,  then  a  bit  over  two  years  old, 
— at  the  house  on  La  Salle  Street.  The  good  woman 
gave  Samson  an  account  of  the  year  filled  with  tear- 
ful praise  of  the  part  Mr.  Davis  had  played  in  it. 
Samson  told  of  the  failure  of  Bim's  letter  to  reach 
him  and  of  his  offer  to  return  the  money  which  Davis 
had  paid  for  their  relief. 

"I  don't  like  the  man  and  I  don't  want  you  to  be 
under  obligation  to  him,"  said  Samson.  "The  story 
of  Harry's  death  was  false  and  I  think  that  he  is  re- 
sponsible for  it.  He  wanted  her  to  marry  him  right 
away  after  that — of  course.  And  she  went  to  the 
plague  settlement  to  avoid  marriage.  I  know  her  bet- 
ter than  you  do.  She  has  read  him  right.  Her  soul 
has  looked  into  his  soul  and  it  keeps  her  away  from 
him." 

But  Mrs.  Kelso  could  believe  no  evil  of  her  benefac- 
tor, nor  would  she  promise  to  cease  depending  on  his 
bounty. 


350  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

Samson  was  a  little  disheartened  by  the  visit.  He 
went  to  see  John  Went  worth,  the  editor  of  The  Demo- 
crat, of  whose  extreme  length  Mr.  Lincoln  had  humor- 
ously spoken  in  his  presence.  The  young  New  Eng- 
lander  was  seven  feet  tall.  He  welcomed  the  broad- 
shouldered  man  from  Sangamon  County  and  began  at 
once  to  question  him  about  Honest  Abe  and  "Steve" 
Douglas  and  O.  H.  'Browning  and  E.  D.  Baker  and 
all  the  able  men  of  the  middle  counties.  Then  he 
wanted  to  know  of  the  condition  of  the  people  since 
the  collapse  of  the  land  boom.  The  farmer's  humorous 
comment  and  sane  views  delighted  the  young  editor. 
At  the  first  opportunity  Samson  came  to  the  business 
of  his  call — the  mischievous  lie  regarding  Harry's 
death  which  had  appeared  in  The  Democrat.  Mr. 
Wentworth  went  to  the  proof  room  and  found  the 
manuscript  of  the  article. 

"We  kept  it  because  we  didn't  know  and  do  not 
now  know  the  writer,"  said  Wentworth. 

Samson  told  of  the  evil  it  had  wrought  and  con- 
veyed his  suspicions  to  the  editor. 

"Davis  is  rather  unscrupulous,"  said  Wentworth. 
4f We  know  a  lot  about  him  in  this  office." 

Samson  looked  at  the  article  and  presently  said : 
"Here  is  »  note  that  he  gave  to  a  friend  of  mine.  It 
looks  to  me  as  if  the  note  and  the  article  were  written 
by  the  same  hand." 

Mr.  Wentworth  compared  the  two  and  said:  "You 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  351 

are  right.  The  same  person  wrote  them.  But  it  was 
not  Davis." 

When  Samson  left  the  office  of  The  Democrat  he 
had  accomplished  little  save  the  confirmation  of  his 
suspicions.  There  was  nothing  he  could  do  about  it. 

He  went  to  Eli  Fredenberg.  Eli,  having  sold  out 
at  the  height  of  the  boom  in  Springfield,  had  been 
back  to  Germany  to  visit  his  friends. 

"I  haf  money — plendy  money,"  said  Eli.  "In  de  ol' 
country  I  vas  rich.  I  thought  maybe  I  stay  dere 
an'  make  myself  happy.  It  vas  one  big  job.  Mein 
frients  dey  hate  me  becos  I  haf  succeed  so  much.  De 
odders  hate  me  becos  de  butcher  haf  mem  fadder 
been.  Dey  laugh  at  my  good  close.  Nobody  likes  me 
not.  I  come  avay.  Dey  don't  blame  you  here  becos 
you  vos  born." 

"What  has  Davis  done  to  you?"  Samson  asked, 
recalling  where  he  had  met  Eli  that  morning. 

Eli  explained  that  he  had  borrowed  money  from 
Davis  to  tide  him  over  the  hard  times  and  was  paying 
twelve  per  cent,  for  it. 

"Dis  morning  I  get  dot  letter  from  his  secretary," 
he  said  as  he  passed  a  letter  to  Samson. 

It  was  a  demand  for  payment  in  the  handwriting  of 
the  Brimstead  note  and  had  some  effect  on  this  little 
history.  It  conveyed  definite  knowledge  of  the  au- 
thorship of  a  malicious  falsehood.  It  aroused  the  an- 
ger and  sympathy  of  Samson  Traylor.  In  the  con- 


352  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

ditions  then  prevailing  Eli  was  unable  to  get  the  money. 
He  was  in  danger  of  losing  his  business.  Samson 
spent  a  day  investigating  the  affairs  of  the  merchant. 
His  banker  and  others  spoke  well  of  him.  He  was 
said  to  be  a  man  of  character  and  credit  embarrassed 
by  the  unexpected  scarcity  of  good  money.  So  it 
came  about  that,  before  he  left  the  new  city,  Samson 
bought  a  fourth  interest  in  the  business  of  Eli  Freden- 
berg.  The  lots  he  owned  were  then  worth  less  than 
when  he  had  bought  them,  but  his  faith  in  the  future 
of  Chicago  had  not  abated. 

He  wrote  a  long  letter  to  Bim  recounting  the  his- 
tory of  his  visit  and  frankly  stating  the  suspicions  to 
which  he  had  been  led.  He  set  out  on  the  west  road 
at  daylight  toward  the  Riviere  des  Plaines,  having 
wisely  decided  to  avoid  passing  the  plague  settlement. 
Better  weather  had  come.  In  the  sunlight  of  a  clear 
sky  he  fared  away  over  the  vast  prairies,  feeling  that 
it  was  a  long  road  ahead  and  a  most  unpromising  visit 
behind  him. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

WHEREIN  A  REMARKABLE  SCHOOL  OF  POLITICAL 
SCIENCE  BEGINS  ITS  SESSIONS  IN  THE  REAR  OF 
JOSHUA  SPEED'S  STORE.  ALSO  AT  SAMSON'S  FIRESIDE 
HONEST  ABE  TALKS  OF  THE  AUTHORITY  OF  THE 
LAW  AND  THE  RIGHT  OF  REVOLUTION,  AND  LATER 
BRINGS  A  SUIT  AGAINST  LIONEL  DAVIS. 

THE  boy  Joe  had  had  a  golden  week  at  the  home  of 
the  Brimsteads.  The  fair  Annabel  knowing  not  the 
power  that  lay  in  her  beauty  had  captured  his  young 
heart  scarcely  fifteen  years  of  age.  He  had  no  in- 
terest in  her  younger  sister,  Mary.  But  Annabel  with 
her  long  skirts  and  full  form  and  glowing  eyes  and 
gentle  dignity  had  stirred  him  to  the  depths.  When 
he  left  he  carried  a  soul  heavy  with  regret  and  great 
resolutions.  Not  that  he  had  mentioned  the  matter  to 
her  or  to  any  one.  It  was  a  thing  too  sacred  for 
speech.  To  God  in  his  prayers  he  spoke  of  it  but  to 
no  other. 

He  asked  to  be  made  and  to  be  thought  worthy.  He 
would  have  had  the  whole  world  stopped  and  put  to 
sleep  for  a  term  until  he  was  delivered  from  the  bond- 
age of  his  tender  youth.  That  being  impossible  it 

353 


354  &  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

.was  for  him  a  sad  but  not  a  hopeless  world.  Indeed 
he  rejoiced  in  his  sadness.  Annabel  was  four  years 
older  than  he.  If  he  could  make  her  to  know  the 
depth  of  his  passion  perhaps  she  would  wait  for  him. 
He  sought  for  self-expression  in  The  Household  Book 
of  Poetry — a  sorrowful  and  pious  volume.  He  could 
find  no  ladder  of  rhyme  with  an  adequate  reach.  He 
endeavored  to  build  one.  He  wrote  melancholy  verses 
and  letters,  confessing  his  passion,  to  Annabel,  which 
she  did  not  encourage  but  which  she  always  kept  and 
valued  for  their  ingenuous  and  noble  ardor.  Some 
of  these  Anacreontics  are  among  the  treasures  inher- 
ited by  her  descendants.  They  were  a  matter  of 
slight  importance,  one  would  say,  but  they  mark  the 
beginning  of  a  great  career.  Immediately  after  his 
return  to  the  new  home  in  Springfield  the  boy  Josiah 
set  out  to  make  himself  honored  of  his  ideal.  In  the 
effort  he  made  himself  honored  of  many.  His  eager 
brain  had  soon  taken  the  footing  of  manhood. 

A  remarkable  school  of  political  science  had  begun 
its  sessions  in  that  little  western  village.  The  world 
'had  never  seen  the  like  of  it.  Abraham  Lincoln, 
Stephen  A.  Douglas,  E.  D.  Baker,  O.  H.  Browning, 
Jesse  B.  Thomas,  and  Josiah  Lamborn — a  most  un- 
usual array  of  talent  as  subsequent  history  has  proved 
* — were  wont  to  gather  around  the  fireplace  in  the 
rear  of  Joshua  Speed's  store,  evenings,  to  discuss  the 
issues  of  the  time.  Samson  and  his  son  Joe  came  often 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  355 

to  hear  the  talk.  Douglas  looked  like  a  dwarf  among 
those  long  geared  men.  He  was  slight  and  short,  be- 
ing only  about  five  feet  tall,  but  he  had  a  big,  round 
head  covered  with  thick,  straight,  dark  hair,  a  bull-dog 
look  and  a  voice  like  thunder.  The  first  steamboat 
had  crossed  the  Atlantic  the  year  before  and  The 
Future  of  Transportation  was  one  of  the  first  themes 
discussed  by  this  remarkable  group  of  men.  Doug- 
las and  Lincoln  were  in  a  heated  argument  over  the 
admission  of  slavery  to  the  territories  the  first  night 
"that  Samson  and  Joe  sat  down  with  them. 

"We  didn't  like  that  little  rooster  of  a  man,  he  had 
such  a  high  and  mighty  way  with  him  and  so  frankly 
opposed  the  principles  we  believe  in.  He  was  an 
out  and  out  pro-slavery  man.  He  would  have  every 
state  free  to  regulate  its  domestic  institutions,  in  its 
own  way,  subject  only  to  the  Constitution  of  the 
United  States.  Lincoln  held  that  it  amounted  to  say- 
ing 'that  if  one  man  chose  to  enslave  another  no  third 
party  shall  be  allowed  to  object.' ' 

In  the  course  of  the  argument  Douglas  alleged 
that  the  Whigs  were  the  aristocrats  of  the  country. 

"That  reminds  me  of  a  night  when  I  was  speaking 
at  Havana,"  said  Honest  Abe.  "A  man  with  a 
ruffled  shirt  and  a  massive  gold  watch  chain  got  up 
and  charged  that  the  Whigs  were  aristocrats.  Doug- 
las in  his  broadcloth  and  fine  linen  reminds  me  of 
that  man.  I'm  going  to  answer  Douglas  as  I  an- 


356  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

swered  him.  Most  of  the  Whigs  I  know  are  my  kind 
of  folks.  I  was  a  poor  boy  working  on  a  flat  boat 
at  eight  dollars  a  month  and  had  only  one  pair  of 
breeches  and  they  were  buckskin.  If  you  know  the 
nature  of  buckskin,  you  know  that  when  it  is  wet 
and  dried  by  the  sun  it  will  shrink  and  my  breeches 
kept  shrinking  and  deserting  the  sock  area  of  my  legs 
until  several  inches  of  them  were  bare  above  my 
shoes.  Whilst  I  was  growing  longer  they  were  grow- 
ing shorter  and  so  much  tighter  that  they  left  a  blue 
streak  around  my  legs  which  can  be  seen  to  this  day. 
If  you  call  that  aristocracy  I  know  of  one  Whig  that 
is  an  aristocrat." 

"But  look  at  the  New  England  type  of  Whig  ex- 
emplified by  the  imperious  and  majestic  Webster," 
said  Douglas. 

"Webster  was  another  poor  lad,"  Lincoln  answered. 
"His  father's  home  was  a  log  cabin  in  a  lonely  land 
until  about  the  time  Daniel  was  born  when  the  family 
moved  to  a  small  frame  house.  His  is  the  majesty  of 
a  great  intellect." 

There  was  much  talk  of  this  sort  until  Mr.  Lincoln 
excused  himself  to  walk  home  with  his  two  friends 
who  had  just  returned  from  the  North,  being  eager  to 
learn  of  Samson's  visit.  The  latter  gave  him  a  full 
account  of  it  and  asked  him  to  undertake  the  collec- 
tion of  Brimstead's  note. 

"I'll  get  after  that  fellow  right  away,"  said  Lincoln. 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  357 

"I'm  glad  to  get  a  chance  at  one  of  those  men  who 
have  been  skinning  the  farmers.  I  suppose  he  has 
other  creditors  in  Tazewell  County  ?" 

"I  presume  there  are  many  of  them." 

"I'll  find  out  about  that,"  said  Lincoln. 

They  sat  down  by  the  fireside  in  Samson's  house. 

"Joe  has  decided  that  he  wants  to  be  a  lawyer/'  said 
Samson. 

"Well,  Joe,  we'll  all  do  what  we  can  to  keep  you 
from  being  a  shot-gun  lawyer,"  Abe  Lincoln  began. 
"I've  got  a  good  first  lesson  for  you.  I  found  it  in  a 
letter  which  Ruf  us  Choate  had  written  to  Judge  Davis. 
In  it  he  says  that  we  rightly  have  great  respect  for  the 
decisions  of  the  majority,  but  that  the  law  is  something 
vastly  greater  and  more  sacred  than  the  verdict  of  any 
majority.  'It  is  a  thing,'  says  he,  'which  has  stood  the 
test  of  long  experience — a  body  of  digested  rules  and 
processes  bequeathed  to  us  by  all  the  ages  of  the  past. 
The  inspired  wisdom  of  the  primeval  east,  the  robust 
genius  of  Athens  and  Rome,  the  keener  modern  sense 
of  righteousness  are  in  it.  The  law  comes  down  to 
us  one  mighty  and  continuous  stream  of  wisdom  and 
experience  accumulated,  ancestral,  widening  and 
deepening  and  washing  itself  clearer  as  it  runs  on,  the 
agent  of  civilization,  the  builder  of  a  thousand  cities. 
To  have  lived  through  ages  of  unceasing  trial  with  the 
passions,  interests,  and  affairs  of  men,  to  have  lived 
through  the  drums  and  tramplings  of  conquest, 


358  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

through  revolution  and  reform  and  all  the  changing 
cycles  of  opinion,  to  have  attended  the  progress  of  the 
race  and  gathered  unto  itself  the  approbation  of  civil- 
ized humanity  is  to  have  proved  that  it  carries  in  it 
some  spark  of  immortal  life.' ' 

The  face  of  Lincoln  changed  as  he  recited  the 
lines  of  the  learned  and  distinguished  lawyer  of  Massa- 
chusetts. 

"His  face  glowed  like  a  lighted  lantern  when  he 
began  to  say  those  eloquent  words,"  Samson  writes  in 
his  diary.  "He  wrote  them  down  so  that  Josiah  could 
commit  them  to  memory." 

"That  is  a  wonderful  statement,"  Samson  remarked. 

Abe  answered :  "It  suggests  to  me  that  the  voice  of 
the  people  in  any  one  generation  may  or  may  not  be  in- 
spired, but  that  the  voice  of  the  best  men  of  all  ages, 
expressing  their  sense  of  justice  and  of  right,  in  the 
law,  is  and  must  be  the  voice  of  God.  The  spirit  and 
body  of  its  decrees  are  as  indestructible  as  the  throne 
of  Heaven.  You  can  overthrow  them  but  until  their 
power  is  reestablished  as  surely  it  will  be,  you  will  live 
in  savagery." 

"You  do  not  deny  the  right  of  revolution." 

"No,  but  I  can  see  no  excuse  for  it  in  America.  It 
has  remained  for  us  to  add  to  the  body  of  the  law  the 
idea  that  men  are  created  free  and  equal.  The  lack 
of  that  saving  principle  in  the  codes  of  the  world  has 
been  the  great  cause  of  injustice  and  oppression.  The 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  359 

voice  of  revolution  here  would  be  like  that  of  lago  in 
the  play  and  worse.  It  would  be  like  the  unscrupulous 
lawyer,  anxious  for  a  fee,  who  says  to  a  client,  living 
happily  with  his  wife :  'I  know  she  is  handsome  and 
virtuous  and  intelligent  and  loving  but  she  has  her 
faults.  There  are  lovelier  women.  I  could  easily  get 
a  divorce  for  you.'  We  would  quickly  throw  such  a 
man  out  of  the  door.  A  man's  country  is  like  his  wife. 
If  she  is  virtuous  and  well-disposed  he  should  permit 
no  meddling,  odious  person  to  come  between  them, 
or  to  suggest  to  him  that  he  put  poison  into  her  tea. 
Least  of  all  should  he  look  for  perfection  in  her,  know- 
ing that  it  is  not  to  be  found  in  this  world  of  ours." 

Honest  Abe  rose  and  walked  up  and  down  the  room 
in  silence  for  a  moment.  Then  he  added : 

"Choate  phrased  it  well  when  he  said:  'We  should 
beware  of  awaking  the  tremendous  divinities  of 
change  from  their  long  sleep.  Let  us  think  of  that 
when  we  consider  what  we  shall  do  with  the  evils 
that  afflict  us.' " 

The  boy  Joe  has  been  deeply  interested  in  this  talk. 

"If  you'll  lend  me  a  book  I'd  like  to  begin  studying," 
he  said. 

"There's  time  enough  for  that,"  said  Lincoln.  "First 
I  want  you  to  understand  what  the  law  is  and  what 
the  lawyer  should  be.  You  wouldn't  want  to  be  a  pet- 
tifogger. Choate  is  the  right  model.  He  has  a  dig- 
nity suited  to  the  greatness  of  his  chosen  master.  They 


360  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

say  that  before  a  Justice  of  the  Peace  in  a  room  no 
bigger  than  a  shoemaker's  shop  his  work  is  done 
with  the  same  dignity  and  care  that  he  would  show  in 
the  supreme  court  of  Massachusetts.  A  newspaper 
says  that  in  a  dog  case  at  Beverly  he  treated  the  dog 
as  if  he  were  a  lion  and  the  crabbed  old  squire  with 
the  consideration  due  a  chief  justice." 

"He  knows  how  to  handle  the  English  language," 
Samson  observed. 

"He  got  that  by  reading.  He  is  the  best  read  man 
at  the  American  bar  and  the  best  Bible  student.  There's 
a  lot  of  work  ahead  of  you,  Joe,  before  you  are  a 
lawyer  and  when  you're  admitted  success  comes  only 
of  the  capacity  for  work.  Brougham  wrote  the  pero- 
ration of  his  speech  in  defense  of  Queen  Caroline 
nineteen  times." 

"I  want  to  be  a  great  orator,"  the  boy  exclaimed 
with  engaging  frankness. 

"Then  you  must  remember  that  character  is  the 
biggest  part  of  it,"  Honest  Abe  declared.  "Great 
thoughts  come  out  of  a  great  character  and  only  out 
of  that.  They  will  come  even  if  you  have  little  learn- 
ing and  none  of  the  graces  which  attract  the  eye.  But 
you  must  have  a  character  that  is  ever  speaking  even 
when  your  lips  are  silent.  It  must  show  in  your  life 
and  fill  the  spaces  between  your  words.  It  will  help 
you  to  choose  and  charge  them  with  the  love  of  great 
things  that  carry  conviction. 

"I  remember  when  I  was  a  boy  over  in   Gentry- 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  361; 

ville  a  shaggy,  plain-dressed  man  rode  up  to  the  door 
one  day.  He  had  a  cheerful,  kindly  face.  His  char- 
acter began  to  speak  to  us  before  he -opened  his  mouth 
to  ask  for  a  drink  of  water. 

"  'I  don't  know  who  you  are,'  my  father  said.  'But 
I'd  like  it  awful  well  if  you'd  light  an'  talk  to  us.' 
He  did  and  we  didn't  know  till  he  had  gone  that  he 
was  the  Governor  of  the  state.  A  good  character  shines 
like  a  candle  on  a  dark  night.  You  can't  mistake  it 
A  firefly  can't  hold  his  light  long  enough  to  compete 
with  it. 

"Webster  said  in  the  Knapp  trial :  There  is  no  evil 
that  we  can  not  either  face  or  fly  from  but  the  con- 
sciousness of  duty  disregarded/ 

"A  great  truth  like  that  makes  wonderful  music 
on  the  lips  of  a  sincere  man.  An  orator  must  be  a 
lover  and  discoverer  of  such  unwritten  laws." 

It  was  nearing  midnight  when  they  heard  footsteps 
on  the  board  walk  in  front  of  the  house.  In  a  mo- 
ment Harry  Needles  entered  in  cavalry  uniform  with" 
fine  top  boots  and  silver  spurs,  erect  as  a  young  Indian 
brave  and  bronzed  by  tropic  suns. 

"Hello !"  he  said  as  he  took  off  his  belt  and  clanking; 
saber.  "I  hang  up  my  sword.  I  have  had  enough  of 
war." 

He  had  ridden  across  country  from  the  boat  land- 
ing and  arriving  so  late  had  left  his  horse  at  a  livery 
stable. 

"I'm  lucky  to  find  you  and  Abe  an3  Joe  all  up  an'dl 


362  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

waiting  for  me,"  he  said  as  he  shook  their  hands. 
"How  is  mother?" 

"I'm  well,"  Sarah  called  from  the  top  of  the  stair- 
way. "I'll  be  down  in  a  minute." 

For  an  hour  or  more  they  sat  by  the  fireside  while 
Harry  told  of  his  adventures  in  the  great  swamps  of 
Southern  Florida. 

"I've  done  my  share  of  the  fighting,"  he  said  at 
length.  "I'm  going  north  to-morrow  to  find  Bim  and 
her  mother." 

"I  shall  want  you  to  serve  a  complaint  on  one  Lionel 
Davis,"  said  Mr.  Lincoln. 

"I  have  one  of  my  own  to  serve  on  him,"  Harry 
answered.  "But  I  hope  that  our  case  can  be  settled 
out  of  court." 

"I  think  that  I'll  go  with  you  as  far  as  Tazewell 
County  and  draw  the  papers  there,"  said  Lincoln. 

When  the  latter  had  left  for  his  lodgings  and  Joe 
and  his  mother  had  gone  to  bed,  Samson  told  Harry 
the  details  of  his  visit  to  Chicago. 

"She  may  have  taken  the  disease  and  died  with  it 
before  now,"  said  the  young  man.  "I'll  be  on  my  way 
to  Honey  Creek  in  the  morning.  If  she's  sick  I'll 
take  care  of  her.  I'm  not  going  to  worry  about  Davis. 
But  when  I  get  there  I  wouldn't  wonder  if  he'd  have 
to  worry  a  little  about  me." 


CHAPTER  XXII 

WHEREIN  ABE  LINCOLN  REVEALS  HIS  METHOD  OF  CON- 
DUCTING A  LAWSUIT  IN  THE  CASE  OF  HENRY  BRIM- 
STEAD  ET  AL.,  VS.  LIONEL  DAVIS. 

THEY  found  many  of  Davis's  notes  in  Tazewell 
County.  Abe  Lincoln's  complaint  represented  seven 
clients  and  a  sum  exceeding  twenty  thousand  dollars. 

"Now,  Harry,  you  don't  like  Davis  and  I  can't  blame 
you  for  it,"  said  Honest  Abe  before  they  parted. 
"Don't  spoil  our  case  by  trying  to  take  it  out  of  his 
hide.  First  we've  got  to  take  it  out  of  his  pocket. 
When  I  get  through  there  may  not  be  any  hide  on  him 
worth  speaking  of,  but  if  there  is  you  can  have  it 
and  welcome." 

With  the  papers  in  his  pocket  Harry  went  on  to 
the  Honey  Creek  settlement.  There  he  found  that  the 
plague  had  spent  itself  and  that  Bim  had  gone  to  a 
detention  camp  outside  the  city  of  Chicago.  He  rode 
on  to  the  camp  but  was  not  permitted  to  see  her,  the 
regulations  having  become  very  strict.  In  the  city 
he  went  to  the  store  of  Eli  Fredenberg.  The  mer- 
chant received  him  with  enthusiasm.  Chicago  had 
begun  to  recover  from  the  panic.  Trade  was  lively. 

363 


364  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

Eli  wanted  Harry  to  go  to  work  in  the  store  until  he 
was  prepared  for  the  law. 

"You  must  stay  here  until  you  haf  got  a  wife  al- 
ready," said  the  thoughtful  Eli.  "It  is  bat  for  you  and 
Bim  to  be  not  marrit  so  much." 

The  young  man  favored  both  the  commercial  and 
the  sentimental  suggestions  of  Eli.  He  had  long  felt 
the  lure  of  that  promising  little  city  on  the  lake  shore. 

"I  wish  you'd  take  this  complaint  and  serve  it  on 
Davis,"  he  said.  "I  don't  want  to  see  him  if  I  can 
help  it.  If  you  don't  mind,  you  can  tell  him  that  I've 
come  to  life  and  am  here  in  the  city  and  that  if  he 
kills  me  again  he'd  better  do  it  while  I'm  looking.  It 
would  be  more  decent." 

Eli  was  delighted  with  a  task  which  promised  a  de- 
gree of  discomfort  to  the  man  who  had  endeavored 
to  ruin  him.  Harry  spent  the  afternoon  with  Mrs. 
Kelso  and  Bim's  baby  boy.  The  good  woman  was 
much  excited  by  the  arrival  of  the  young  soldier. 

"We  have  had  a  terrible  year,"  she  said.  "We 
couldn't  have  lived  through  it  without  the  help  of  a 
friend.  Bim  went  away  to  take  care  of  the  sick  in  the 
smallpox  neighborhood.  She  was  rather  discouraged. 
Our  friend,  Mr.  Davis,  is  in  love  with  her.  She  prom- 
ised to  marry  him.  It  seemed  to  be  the  only  way  out 
of  our  troubles.  But  she  will  not  even  write  to  him 
now.  I  think  that  she  is  very  unhappy." 

"I  shall  not  try  to  increase  her  troubles,  but  I  shall 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  365 

prevent  her  from  marrying  Davis  if  I  can,"  said 
Harry. 

"Why?" 

"Because  I  think  he  is  dishonest." 

"He  has  convinced  me  that  aft  the  'reports  are! 
wrong,"  Mrs.  Kelso  declared.  "I  think  that  he  is  one 
of  the  kindest  and  best  of  men." 

"I  shall  not  argue  with  you  as  to  the  character  of 
my  rival,"  Harry  answered.  "The  facts  will  be  on 
record  one  of  these  days  and  then  you  can  form  your 
own  judgment.  I  hope  you  won't  mind  my  coming 
here  to  see  you  and  the  baby  now  and  then." 

"You  are  always  welcome.  But  Mr.  Davis  comes 
often  and  feeling  as  you  do  it  might  be  unpleasant  for 
you  to  meet  him." 

"It  would.  I'll  keep  away  until  the  air  clears,"  said 
Harry. 

He  wrote  a  very  tender  letter  to  Bim  that  day.  He 
told  her  that  he  had  come  to  Chicago  to  live  so  that 
he  might  be  near  her  and  ready  to  help  her  if  she 
needed  help.  "The  same  old  love  is  in  my  heart  that 
made  me  want  you  for  my  wife  long  ago,  that  has 
filled  my  letters  and  sustained  me  in  many  an  hour 
of  peril,"  he  wrote.  "If  you  really  think  that  you  must 
marry  Davis,  I  ask  you  at  least  to  wait  for  the  de- 
velopments of  a  suit  which  Abe  Lincoln  is  bringing 
in  behalf  of  many  citizens  of  Tazewell  County.  It  is 
likely  that  we  shall  know  more  than  we  do  now  be- 


366  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

fore  that  case  ends.  I  saw  your  beautiful  little  boy. 
He  looks  so  much  like  you  that  I  long  to  steal  him  and 
keep  him  with  me." 

In  a  few  days  he  received  this  brief  reply: 

"Dear  Harry :  Your  letter  pleased  and  pained  me. 
I  have  been  so  tossed  about  that  I  don't  know  quite 
where  I  stand.  My  brain  is  like  a  bridge  that  has 
been  washed  out  by  floods.  I  am  picking  up  the  frag- 
ments and  trying  to  rebuild  it.  For  a  long  time  my 
life  has  been  nothing  but  a  series  of  emotions.  What 
Honest  Abe  may  be  able  to  prove  I  know  not,  but  I 
am  sure  that  he  can  not  disprove  the  fact  that  Mr. 
Davis  has  been  kind  and  generous  to  me.  For  that  I 
can  not  ever  cease  to  be  grateful.  I  should  have  mar- 
ried him  before  now  but  for  one  singular  circumstance. 
My  little  boy  can  not  be  made  to  like  him.  He  will 
have  nothing  to  do  with  Mr.  Davis.  He  will  not  be 
bribed  or  coerced.  Time  and  kindness  do  not  seem 
to  diminish  his  dislike.  My  soul  has  been  drugged 
with  argument  and — I  can  not  help  saying  it — bribed 
with  favors.  But  the  boy  has  been  steadfast.  He  has 
kept  his  frankness  and  honesty.  I  saw  in  this  a 
prophecy  of  trouble.  I  left  home  and  went  down  into 
the  very  shadow  of  death.  It  may  be  that  we  have 
been  saved  for  each  other  by  the  wisdom  of  childhood. 
I  must  not  see  you  now.  No-r  shall  I  see  him  until 
I  have  found  my  way.  Even  your  call  can  not  make 
me  forget  that  I  am  under  a  solemn  promise.  I  must 
keep  it  without  much  more  delay  unless  something 
happens  to  release  me. 

"I'm  glad  you  like  the  boy.     He  is  a  wonderful 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  367 

child.  I  named  him  Nehemiah  for  his  grandfather. 
We  call  him  Nim  and  sometimes  'Mr.  Nimble'  because 
he  is  so  lively.  I'm  homesick  to  see  him  and  you.  I 
am  going  to  Dixon  to  teach  and  earn  money  for  moth- 
er and  the  baby.  Don't  tell  any  one  where  I  am  and 
above  all  don't  come  to  see  me  until  in  good  heart  I 
can  ask  you  to  come. 

"God  bless  you! 

"Bim." 

In  a  few  weeks  the  suit  came  on.  It  was  tried  in  the 
new  brick  Court-House  in  Chicago.  Davis's  defense, 
as  given  in  the  answer,  alleged  that  the  notes  were  to 
be  paid  out  of  the  proceeds  of  the  sale  of  lots  and 
that  in  consequence  of  the  collapse  of  the  boom  there 
had  been  no  such  proceeds.  His  claim  was  supported 
by  the  testimony  of  his  secretary  and  another  and  by 
certain  letters  of  his,  promising  payment  as  soon  as 
the  land  was  sold,  and  by  letters  from  the  plaintiffs 
allowing  that  grace.  As  to  the  understanding  upon 
which  the  notes  were  drawn,  there  was  a  direct  issue 
of  veracity  for  which  Abe  Lincoln  was  exceedingly 
well  prepared.  He  had  gained  possession  of  many 
facts  in  the  history  of  the  young  speculator,  including 
the  important  one  that  he  had  been  convicted  of  fraud 
in  New  Orleans.  Mr.  Lincoln's  cross-examination 
was  as  merciless  as  sunlight  "falling  round  a  helpless 
thing."  It  was  kindly  and  polite  i'n  tone  but  relent- 
less in  its  searching.  When  it  ended,  the  weight  of 


368  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

Davis's  character  had  been  accurately  established.  In 
his  masterly  summing  up  Mr.  Lincoln  presented  every 
circumstance  in  favor  of  the  defendant's  position.  With 
remarkable  insight  he  anticipated  the  arguments  of  his 
attorney.  He  presented  them  fairly  and  generously 
to  the  court  and  jury.  According  to  Samson  the  op- 
posing lawyers  admitted  in  a  private  talk  that  Lin- 
jcoln  had  thought  of  presumptions  in  favor  of  Davis 
which  had  not  occurred  to  them.  Therein  lay  the  char- 
acteristic of  Mr.  Lincoln's  method  in  a  lawsuit. 

"It  was  a  safe  thing  for  him  to  do  for  he  never 
took  a  case  in  which  justice  was  not  clearly  on  his 
side,"  Samson  writes.  "If  he  had  been  deceived  as 
to  the  merits  of  a  case  he  would  drop  it.  With  the 
sword  of  justice  in  his  hand  he  was  invincible." 

First  he  put  the  thing  to  be  weighed  on  the  scale 
'fully  and  fairly.  Then,  one  by  one,  he  put  the  units 
of  gravity  on  the  other  side  so  that  the  court  and  jury 
saw  the  turning  of  the  balance. 

He  covered  the  point  at  issue  with  a  few  words 
"every  one  of  which  drew  blood,"  to  quote  a  phrase 
'from  the  diary.  He  showed  that  the  validity  of  such 
claims  rested  wholly  on  the  character  of  the  man  who 
made  them,  especially  when  they  were  opposed  to  the 
testimony  of  people  whose  honesty  had  been  ques- 
tioned only  by  that  man. 

"Now  as  to  the  secretary,"  said  Mr.  Lincoln,  "I 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  369 

honestly  regret  that  he  has  disagreed  with  himself. 
A  young  man  ought  not  to  disagree  with  himself  as  to 
the  truth  and  especially  when  he  contradicts  the  oath 
of  witnesses  whom  we  have  no  reason  to  discredit.  I 
want  to  be  kind  to  him  on  account  of  his  youth.  He 
reminds  me  of  the  young  man  who  hired  out  to  a 
Captain  in  Gloucester  and  shipped  for  the  China  coast 
and  learned  presently  that  he  was  on  a  pirate  vessel. 
He  had  been  a  young  man  of  good  intentions  but  he 
had  to  turn  to  and  help  the  business  along.  When 
the  ship  was  captured  he  said : 

"  'I  didn't  want  to  be  a  pirate,  but  there  was  only 
one  kind  o'  politics  on  that  ship  and  the  majority  was 
so  large  I  thought  that  the  vote  might  as  well  be 
unanimous.  At  first  I  was  in  favor  of  reform  but 
the  walkin'  was  that  bad  I  had  to  decide  between  a 
harp  and  a  cutlass/ 

"This  parable  serves  to  illustrate  the  history  of  most 
young  men  who  fall  into  bad  company.  The  walking 
becomes  more  or  less  bad  for  them.  They  get  into 
the  bondage  of  Fear.  We  know  not  how  it  may  have 
influenced  the  action  of  Cap'n  Davis's  First  Mate. 
Probably  since  the  hard  times  began,  the  walking  has 
looked  bad  to  him  but  still  there  was  walking.  I  am 
sorry  it  must  be  said  that  there  was  walking  and  I 
hope  that  he  will  now  make  some  use  of  it." 

He  did  and  in  time  confessed  to  Samson  Traylor 
that  Mr.  Lincoln's  reproach  had  been  the  saving  of 


370  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

him.  A  judgment  was  rendered  in  favor  of  the  plain- 
tiffs for  the  full  amount  of  their  claim  with  costs.  The 
character  of  Lionel  Davis  had  been  sufficiently  re- 
vealed. Even  the  credulous  Mrs.  Kelso  turned  against 
him.  Mr.  Lincoln's  skill  as  a  lawyer  was  recognized 
in  the  north  as  well  as  in  the  middle  counties.  From 
that  day  forth  no  man  enjoyed  a  like  popularity  in 
Tazewell  County. 

When  Samson  and  Harry  Needles  left  the  Court- 
House,  there  seemed  to  be  no  obstacle  between  the 
young  man  and  the  consummation  of  his  wishes.  Un- 
fortunately, as  they  were  going  down  the  steps  Davis, 
who  blamed  Samson  for  his  troubles,  flung  an  insult 
"at  the  sturdy  Vermonter.  Samson,  who  had  then  ar- 
rived at  years  of  firm  discretion,  was  little  disturbed 
by  the  anger  of  a  man  so  discredited.  But  Harry,  on 
the  sound  of  the  hateful  words,  had  leaped  forward 
and  dealt  the  speculator  a  savage  blow  in  the  face  which 
for  a  few  seconds  had  deprived  him  of  the  power  of 
speech.  That  evening  a  friend  of  Davis  called  at  the 
City  Hall  with  a  challenge.  The  hot-blooded  young1 
soldier  accepted  i't  against  the  urgent  counsel  of  Sam- 
son Traylor,  Mr.  Lincoln  having  left  the  city.  It  was 
a  fashion  of  the  time  for  gentlemen  to  stand  up  and 
shoot  at  each  other  after  such  a  quarrel.  But  Davis, 
since  the  trial,  had  no  character  to  defend  and  there- 
fore no  right  to  enter  the  field  of  honor  with  a  man 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  371 

of  Harry's  standing1.    But  the  young  officer  had  prom- 
ised to  fight  and  was  not  to  be  dissuaded. 

As  to  the  details  of  the  tragic  scene  that  followed 
next  day,  the  writer  has  little  knowledge.  Samson 
was  not  the  type  of  man  for  such  a  chronicle.  The 
diary  speaks  of  hi's  part  in  it  with  shame  and  sorrow 
and  remorse.  His  mind  seems  to  have  been  too  much 
engaged  with  its  own  fears  and  thoughts  to  take  note 
of  the  color.  We  may  infer  from  one  remark  in  it 
that  the  sky  was  clear.  We  know,  too,  that  it  was 
at  day-break  when  he  and  Harry  rode  to  a  point  on 
the  prairie  "something  more  than  a  mile  from  the 
city  limits."  There  he  tells  us  they  met  Davis  and 
one  friend  of  the  latter  and  two  surgeons  who  had 
driven  to  the  scene  in  a  box  wagon.  It  is  evident,  too, 
that  great  secrecy  had  been  observed  in  the  plan  and 
its  execution  and  that,  until  sometime  after  the  last 
act,  Lincoln  knew  nothing  of  the  later  developments 
in  the  drama  of  Davis's  downfall.  For  the  rest  of  the 
deplorable  scene  the  historian  must  content  himself 
with  the  naked  details  in  the  diary  of  a  puritan  pio- 
neer. They  are,  at  least,  direct  and  derive  a  certain 
vividness  from  their  haste  to  be  done  with  it  as  a  pro- 
ceeding of  which  the  less  said  the  better. 

"I  went  because  there  was  no  escape  from  it  and 
with  the  shadow  of  God's  wrath  in  my  soul,"  Sam- 
son writes.  "The  sun  rose  as  we  halted  our  horses. 


372  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

We  paced  the  field.  The  two  men  took  their  places 
twenty  yards  apart.  Harry  was  a  little  pale  but  he 
stood  up  as  straight  and  steady  as  a  hitching  post.  The 
pistols  rang  out  at  the  command  to  fire  and  both  men 
fell.  Davis  had  been  hit  in  the  left  shoulder.  My 
handsome  boy  lay  on  his  face.  The  bullet  had  bored 
through  his  right  lung.  Before  I  could  reach  him  he 
had  risen  to  his  feet  ready  to  go  on  with  the  battle. 
Davis  lay  like  one  paralyzed  by  the  shock  of  the  bul- 
let His  seconds  declared  they  were  satisfied.  The 
surgeons  began  their  work.  I  saw  them  take  the  bul- 
let out  of  Harry's  back  where  it  had  lodged  under 
hi's  skin.  I  helped  them  put  the  wounded  men  into 
the  wagon  and  rode  to  the  house  of  one  of  the  doctors 
near  the  city  wherein  were  rooms  for  the  accommoda- 
tion of  critical  cases,  leading  Harry's  horse  and  pray- 
ing for  God's  help  and  forgiveness.  I  took  care  of 
the  boy  until  Steve  Nuckles  came  to  help  me.  Bim 
arrived  when  Harry  was  out  of  his  head  and  didn't 
know  her.  She  was  determined  to  stay  and  do  the 
nursing  but  I  wouldn't  let  her.  She  did  not  look 
strong.  I  loaned  her  the  money  to  pay  the  debt  to 
Davis  and  persuaded  her  to  go  back  to  her  work  i'n 
Dixon.  She  went  and  was  rather  heart-broken  about 
it. 

"As  she  was  leaving  she  looked  into  my  face  and 
said:  'Don't  tell  him  or  any  one  what  has  happened 
to  me.  I  want  to  tell  him.' 

"I  promised  to  keep  her  secret  and  did  it.  Soon  I 
learned  that  she  was  down  sick  of  her  worries.  I  sent 
her  mother  to  her  and  kept  the  small  boy  with  me. 

"The  surgeon  said  that  Harry  would  live  if  lung 
fever  didn't  set  in.  It  set  in  but  he  pulled  through. 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  373 

He  mended  slowly.  I  had  some  fear  of  arrest  but 
the  conspiracy  of  silence  kept  the  facts  under  cover. 
It  was  partly  due,  I  guess,  to  the  friendship  of  John 
iWentworth  for  me  and  Honest  Abe.  He  kept  it  out 
of  the  papers.  There  were  no  complaints  and  the  ru- 
mors soon  fell  into  silence.  I  spent  about  six  weeks 
at  Harry's  bedside  and  in  the  store  which  has  begun 
to  prosper. 

"The  boy,  'Mr.  Nimble/  is  a  cunning1  little  man. 
When  he  began  to  get  better,  Harry  loved  to  play 
with  him  and  listen  to  his  talk  about  fairies.  The 
young  man  was  able  to  leave  his  bed,  by  and  by,  but 
he  didn't  get  over  his  weakness  and  pallor.  He  had 
no  appetite.  I  sent  him  with  Nuckles  into  the  Wis- 
consin woods  to  live  in  the  open.  Then  I  took  the 
small  boy  to  Dixon  with  me  in  the  saddle.  Bim  had 
just  got  back  to  her  work.  She  was  distressed  by  the 
news  of  Harry's  condition. 

"  'I  fear  he  has  got  his  death-blow/  she  said  with 
a  sad  look  in  her  face.  'I  had  hoped  that  we  could 
be  married  this  autumn.  But  something  comes  be- 
tween us  always.  First  it  was  my  folly  and  now  it  is 
his  folly.  It  seems  as  if  we  hadn't  sense  enough  to 
get  married  when  there's  nothing  in  the  \vay  of  it.' 

"She  told  me  that  Eliphalet  Biggs  had  been  there. 
He  had  heard  of  the  boy  and  wished  to  see  him  and 
demanded  to  know  where  he  was.  For  fear  that 
Biggs  would  try  to  get  possession  of  'Mr.  Nimble'  I 
took  him  with  me  to  Springfield  in  the  saddle. 

"I  learn  that  Davis  has  recovered  his  health  and 
left  the  city.  !A!  man  can  not  do  business  without 
friends  and  after  the  trial  Chicago  was  no  place  for 
him." 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

WHICH  PRESENTS  THE  PLEASANT  COMEDY  OF  INDI- 
VIDUALISM IN  THE  NEW  CAPITAL,  AND  THE  COURT- 
SHIP OF  LINCOLN  AND  MARY  TODD. 

SAMSON,  with  "Mr.  Nimble"  on  a  pad  stuffed  with 
straw  in  front  of  him,  jogged  across  the  prairies  and 
waded  the  creeks  and  sloughs  on  his  way  to  Spring- 
field. The  little  lad  was  in  his  fourth  year  that  sum- 
mer. He  slept  and  talked  much  on  the  way  and  kept 
Samson  busy  with  queries  about  the  sky  and  the  creeks 
and  the  great  flowery  meadows.  They  camped  the 
first  night  in  a  belt  of  timber  and  Samson  writes  that 
the  boy  "slept  snug  against  me  with  his  head  on  my 
arm.  He  went  to  sleep  crying  for  his  mother."  He 
adds: 

"It  reminded  me  of  the  old  days  of  my  young 
fatherhood.  'Mr.  Nimble'  wanted  to  pick  all  the 
the  flowers  and  splash  his  bare  feet  in  every  stream. 
In  the  evening  he  would  talk  to  the  stars  as  if  he 
were  playing  with  them.  To  him  the  whole  world  is 
a  plaything.  He  is  like  some  of  the  grown  folks  in 
Chicago.  He  would  sit  hanging  on  to  the  reins  and 
talk  to  the  horse  and  to  God  by  the  hour.  He  used 
to  tell  me  that  God  was  a  friend  of  his  and  I  think  he 

374 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  375 

was  right.  It  was  good  luck  to  get  back  to  Sarah  and 
the  children.  They  took  the  little  stranger  into 
their  hearts.  'Heart  room,  house  room'  is  the  motto 
of  this  part  of  the  country." 

It  was  a  new  town  to  which  Samson  returned.  The 
Governor  and  the  state  officers  had  moved  to  Spring- 
field. The  new  Capitol  was  nearing  completion.  The 
hard  times  which  had  followed  the  downfall  of  '37 
had  unjustly  diminished  Mr.  Lincoln's  confidence  in 
his  ability  as  a  legislator.  He  enjoyed  the  practice 
of  the  law  which  had  begun  to  turn  his  interest  from 
the  affairs  of  state.  But  the  pot  of  political  science 
boiled  before  the  fireplace  in  the  rear  of  Joshua 
Speed's  store  every  evening  that  Lincoln  and  his  as- 
sociates were  in  Springfield.  The  wit  and  wisdom 
which  bubbled  into  its  vapors  and  the  heat  that  sur- 
rounded it  were  the  talk  of  the  town.  Many  came 
to  witness  the  process  and  presently  it  was  moved,  for 
a  time,  to  more  accommodating  quarters.  Before  a 
crowd  of  people  in  the  Presbyterian  Church,  Lincoln, 
Logan,  Baker  and  Browning  for  the  Whigs,  and 
Douglas,  Calhoun,  Lamborn  and  Thomas  for  the 
Democrats,  having  assiduously  prepared  for  the  trial, 
debated  the  burning  issues  of  the  time.  The  effort  of 
each  filled  an  evening  and  Lincoln's  speech  gave  him 
new  hope  of  himself.  Wise  men  began  to  have  great 
confidence  in  his  future.  He  had  taken  the  style  of 
Webster  for  his  model.  He  no  longer  used  the  broad 


376  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

humor  which  had  characterized  his  efforts  on  the 
stump.  A  study  of  the  best  speeches  of  the  great  New 
Englander  had  made  him  question  its  value  in  a  public 
address.  Dignity,  clear  reasoning  and  impressiveness 
were  the  chief  aims  of  his  new  method,  the  latter  of 
which  is  aptly  illustrated  by  this  passage  from  his 
speech  in  reply  to  Douglas  in  the  debate  mentioned : 

"If  I  ever  feel  the  soul  within  me  elevate  and  ex- 
pand to  those  dimensions  not  wholly  unworthy  of  its 
Almighty  Architect  it  is  when  I  contemplate  the  cause 
of  my  country  deserted  by  all  the  world  besides,  and 
I  standing  up  boldly  and  alone  and  hurling  defiance  at 
her  victorious  oppressors.  Here  without  contemplat- 
ing consequences  before  high  heaven  and  in  the  face 
of  the  world  I  swear  eternal  fidelity  to  the  just  cause, 
as  I  deem  it,  of  the  land  of  my  life,  my  liberty  and  my 
love." 

In  these  perfervid  utterances  one  may  find  little 
to  admire  save  a  great  spirit  seeking  to  express  itself 
and  lacking  as  yet  the  refinement  of  taste  equal  to  his 
undertaking.  He  was  no  heaven-born  genius  "sprung 
in  full  panoply  from  the  head  of  Jove."  He  was  just 
one  of  the  slow,  common  folk,  with  a  passion  for  jus- 
tice and  human  rights,  slowly  feeling  his  way  upward. 
His  spirit  was  growing.  Strong  in  its  love  and  knowl- 
edge of  common  men  and  of  the  things  necessary  tot 
their  welfare,  it  was  beginning  to  seek  and  know  "the 
divine  power  of  words."  Every  moment  of  leisure  he 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  377. 

gave  to  the  study  of  Webster  and  Burke  and  Byron 
and  Shakespeare  and  Burns.  He  had  begun  to  study 
the  art  of  Irving  and  Walter  Scott  and  of  a  new  writ- 
er of  the  name  of  Dickens.  There  were  four  men 
who  slept  with  him,  in  the  room  above  Speed's  store, 
and  one  of  them  has  told  how  he  used  to  lie  sprawled 
on  the  floor,  with  his  pillow  and  candle,  reading  long 
after  the  others  had  gone  to  sleep.  Samson  writes  that 
he  never  knew  a  man  who  understood  the  art  of  using 
minutes  as  he  did.  A  detached  minute  was  to  him  a 
thing  to  be  filled  with  value.  Yet  there  were  few 
men  so  deeply  in  love  with  fun.  He  loved  to  laugh 
at  a  story-telling  and  to  match  his  humor  with  Thomp- 
son Campbell — a  famous  raconteur — and  to  play  with 
children.  Fun  was  as  necessary  to  him  as  sleep.  He 
searched  for  it  in  people  and  in  books. 

He  came  often  to  Samson's  house  to  play  with  "Mr. 
Nimble"  and  to  talk  with  Joe.  Some  of  his  best 
thoughts  came  when  he  was  talking  with  Joe  and  some 
of  his  merriest  moments  when  he  was  playing  with 
"Mr.  Nimble."  He  confessed  that  it  was  the  latter  that 
reminded  him  that  he  had  better  be  looking  for  a  wife. 

But  Lincoln  was  only  one  of  many  remarkable  per- 
sonalities in  Springfield  who  had  discovered  themselves 
and  were  seeking  to  be  discovered.  Sundry  individuals 
were  lifting  their  heads  above  the  crowd  but  not  with, 
the  modesty  and  self-distrust  of  Honest  Abe.  "Steve" 
Douglas,  whom  Samson  had  referred  to  as  "that  little 


378  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

rooster  of  a  man,"  put  on  the  stilts  of  a  brave  and  pon- 
derous vigor.  His  five-foot  stature  and  his  hundred 
pounds  of  weight  did  not  fit  the  part  of  Achilles.  But 
he  would  have  no  other.  He  blustered  much  with  a 
spear  too  heavy  for  his  hands.  Lincoln  used  to  call 
him  a  kind  of  popgun. 

This  free-for-all  joust  of  individualism — one  of  the 
first  fruits  of  Freedom  in  the  West — gave  to  the  life 
of  the  little  village  a  rich  flavor  of  comedy.  The  great 
talents  of  Douglas  had  not  been  developed.  His  char- 
acter was  as  yet  shifty  and  shapeless.  Some  of  the 
leading  citizens  openly  distrusted  him.  He  sought  to 
command  respect  by  assaulting  men  of  full  size  and 
was  repeatedly  and  soundly  thumped  for  his  presump- 
tion. He  had  endeavored  publicly  to  chastise  the 
sturdy  Simeon  Francis  and  had  been  bent  over  a  mar- 
ket cart  and  severely  wigged  by  the  editor.  Lincoln 
used  to  call  these  affairs  ''the  mistakes  of  Douglas  due 
wholly  to  the  difference  between  the  size  of  his  body 
and  the  size  of  his  feelin's."  He  never  liked  this  little 
man,  in  opposing  whom  he  was  to  come  to  the  fulness 
of  his  power  on  the  platform.  It  is  evident  that  Lin- 
coln regarded  him  as  an  able  advocate  of  small  sin- 
cerity looking  chiefly  for  personal  advancement. 

There  is  a  passage  in  the  diary  which  illustrates  the 
character  of  Douglas  and  Lincoln's  knowledge  of  it. 
The  passage  relates  to  a  day  in  the  famous  debates  of 
1858.  Lincoln  had  not  reached  Havana  in  time  to 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  379 

hear  the  speech  of  his  opponent.  A  great  crowd  had 
come  by  train  and  in  wagons.  Taking  advantage  of 
his  absence  Douglas  had  called  Lincoln  "a  liar,  a 
coward  and  a  sneak"  and  declared  that  he  was  going 
to  fight  him. 

Lincoln  heard  of  this  and  said  in  his  speech : 

"I  shall  not  fight  with  Judge  Douglas.  A  fight  could 
prove  nothing  at  issue  in  this  campaign.  It  might  prove 
that  he  is  a  more  muscular  man  than  I  or  that  I  am  a 
more  muscular  man  than  he,  but  this  subject  is  not  men- 
tioned in  either  platform.  Again  he  and  I  are  really 
very  good  friends  and  when  we  are  together  he  would 
no  more  think  of  fighting  me  than  of  fighting  his  wife. 
Therefore  when  the  Judge  talked  about  fighting  he 
was  not  giving  vent  to  any  ill  feeling  but  was  trying 
to  excite — well,  let  us  say  enthusiasm  against  me  on 
the  part  of  his  audience." 

Justice  accomplished  her  ends  now  and  then  with 
comic  displays  of  violence  in  the  prairie  capital.  One 
night  Abe  Lincoln  and  certain  of  his  friends  captured 
a  shoe-maker  who  had  beaten  his  wife  and  held  him  at 
the  village  pump  while  the  aggrieved  woman  gave  him 
a  sound  thrashing.  So  this  phase  of  imperialism  was 
cured  in  Springfield  by  "hair  off  the  same  dog"  as 
Lincoln  put  it. 

One  evening  while  E.  D.  Baker  was  speaking  in  the 
crowded  village  court  room  above  Lincoln's  office  and 
was  rudely  interrupted  and  in  danger  of  assault,  thr 


380  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

long  legs  of  Honest  Abe  suddenly  appeared  through 
a  scuttle  hole  in  the  ceiling  above  the  platform.  He 
leaped  upon  it  and  seizing  a  stone  water  pitcher  de- 
fied any  one  to  interfere  with  the  right  of  free  speech 
in  a  worthy  cause. 

So  it  will  be  seen  that  there  were  zestful  moments 
in  these  sundry  vindications  of  the  principles  of  De- 
mocracy in  the  prairie  capital. 

About  this  time  Miss  Mary  Todd,  the  daughter  of  a 
Kentucky  banker,  arrived  in  Springfield  to  visit  her 
sister,  Mrs.  Nini'an  W.  Edwards.  She  was  a  fashion- 
ably dressed,  good-looking  girl  of  blue-gray  eyes  and 
dark  hair.  She  had  been  well  educated  in  the  schools 
of  Lexington  and  could  speak  French  as  well  as  Eng- 
lish. 

"Well,  Mary,  haven't  you  found  the  fortunate  young 
man  yet?"  Mr.  Edwards  playfully  asked  the  day  of 
her  coming. 

"You  know  my  husband  is  going  to  be  President 
of  the  United  States  and  I  hoped  that  I  would  find  him 
in  Springfield,"  Mary  answered  in  a  like  vein. 

"There's  great  fishing  here,"  sai'd  Mr.  Edwards. 
"I  know  the  very  man  you  are  looking  for.  He  has 
come  up  from  the  ranks  and  is  now  the  most  popular 
member  of  the  Legislature.  He  can  make  a  stirring 
speech  and  they  say  he  is  going  to  be  the  President 
of  the  United  States.  He's  wise  and  witty  and 
straight  as  a  string  but  a  rough  diamond — big,  awk- 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  381 

ward  and  homely.  You're  just  the  girl  to  take  him  irt 
hand  and  give  him  a  little  polish  and  push  him  along. 
His  name  is  Abraham  Lincoln." 

Speed  knew  the  Todds — a  distinguished  Kentucky; 
family  with  a  Governor  of  Virginia  and  other  historic^ 
figures  in  its  record.  When  he  called  upon  Mary  she 
asked  about  Mr.  Lincoln  and  said  she  would  like  to 
meet  him. 

"She's  just  the  girl  for  you,  Abe,"  Speed  said  to 
him  that  evening.  "She  is  bright  and  well  educated 
and  her  family  has  influence.  She  could  be  a  great 
help  to  you." 

This  interested  the  member  from  Sangamon  Coun- 
ty who  was  indeed  eager  to  get  along.  The  companion- 
ship of  a  refined  young  lady  was  the  very  thing  he 
needed. 

"Let's  go  over  and  pay  our  respects  to  her,"  Speed 
suggested.  They  went,  Lincoln  being  carefully  dressed 
in  his  first  suit  of  black  clothes.  Miss  Todd  was  a 
bright,  vivacious  girl  of  middle  stature,  twenty-two 
years  old.  She  was  fashionably  dressed  and  carried 
her  head  proudly — a  smart-looking,  witty,  well  spoken 
girl  but  not  especially  handsome.  She  was  most  agree- 
able to  the  young  men.  Honest  Abe  was  deeply  im- 
pressed by  her  talk  and  fine  manners  and  general  come- 
liness. He  felt  her  grace  and  charm  and  spoke  of  it 
with  enthusiasm.  But  to  him  and  to  her  there  seemed 
to  be  an  impassable  gulf  between  them.  She  changed 


382  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

her  mind  about  that,  however,  when  she  heard  him 
speak  and  felt  the  power  of  his  personality  and  saw 
his  face  lighted  by  the  candle  of  his  spirit.  It  was 
a  handsome  face  in  those  moments  of  high  elation. 
Hardship  and  malarial  poison  had  lined  and  sallowed 
his  skin.  He  used  to  say  that  every  time  the  fever 
and  ague  walked  over  him,  they  left  a  track  on  his 
face.  The  shadows  of  loneliness  and  sorrow  were  in 
its  sculpturing.  But  when  his  eyes  glowed  with  pas- 
sion one  saw  not  the  rough  mask  which  the  life  of  the 
pioneer  had  given  him.  His  form  lost  its  awkward- 
ness; his  face  took  on  a  noble  and  impressive  beauty. 
Those  times  every  eye  looked  longingly  upon  him  be- 
cause of  the  great  and  wonderful  things  with  which 
he  was  interfused.  To  quote  his  own  words  to  the 
boy,  Josiah  Traylor,  his  character  was  speaking  as 
well  as  his  lips.  Mary  had  the  insight  to  recognize 
his  power.  She  felt  the  strength  of  his  spirit.  She 
agreed  with  her  friends  that  here  was  a  man  of  great 
promise.  She  felt  the  need  of  him. 

To  one  who  loved  beauty  and  respected  women  as  he 
did  the  grace  and  refinement  of  this  young  lady  had 
a  singular  appeal  coupled  as  it  was  with  the  urge  of 
his  strong,  masculine  nature.  It  was  a  revelation.  He 
was  like  a  young  poet  going  out  into  the  open  and  see- 
ing for  the  first  time  the  mysterious  beauty  of  the 
mountains  or  "the  exquisite,  delicate,  thin  curve  of  the 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  383 

new  moon  in  spring."  He  began  to  seek  and  study 
refinement  of  thought,  of  manner,  of  dress,  of  expres- 
sion. He  knew  that  he  needed  Mary  but  had  the 
feeling  that  she  was  not  for  him. 

A  woman  who  lived  near  the  Edwards's  house  had 
a  small,  hairy,  poodle  dog.  One  day  as  Abe  and  Mary 
were  walking  along  the  street,  they  met  this  woman 
who  asked  if  they  had  seen  her  dog. 

"I  wouldn't  wonder  if  some  one  down  the  street  had 
got  him  tied  to  the  end  of  a  pole  and  is  using1  him  to 
swab  off  his  windows,"  said  Abe  Lincoln  with  a  good- 
natured  laugh.  "I'll  try  to  find  him  for  you." 

Mary  enjoyed  fun  and  this  and  like  sallies  of  the 
young  legislator  added  a  certain  zest  to  their  friend- 
ship. Women  are  like  children  in  their  love  of  humor. 

The  diminutive  Douglas  saw  in  Miss  Todd  an  asset 
of  much  value  and  his  attentions  began  to  be  assidu- 
ous. Mary  was  indifferent  to  his  lofty  manner  and 
sonorous  vocalism.  Abe  Lincoln  liked  her  better  for 
that. 

She  encouraged  the  visits  of  the  latter  and  invited 
his  confidence.  The  fact  filled  him  with  a  great  joy. 
They  went  about  together.  In  the  Edwards  parlor  he 
modestly  told  her  of  his  work  and  his  life  plan.  She 
differed  with  him  on  certain  subjects  which  were  un- 
fortunately fundamental.  He  did  not  love  her  as  he 
had  loved  Ann.  But  her  personality  pleased  and  fas- 


384  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

ciliated  the  young  legislator.  One  evening  under  the 
spell  of  it  he  asked  her  to  be  his  wife.  She  consented. 
Then  he  began  to  think  it  over. 

It  was  like  Lincoln  in  his  relations  with  women  to 
get  the  cart  before  the  horse  so  to  speak.  The  points 
upon  which  they  disagreed  came  up  for  consideration. 
She  could  not  think  as  he  did  on  the  subject  of  slav- 
ery and  the  kindred  one  of  State  Rights.  His  man- 
ners were  not  like  hers.  He  was  thirty-one  years  old 
that  summer.  It  was  rather  late  in  life  to  undertake 
any  great  change  in  his  manners.  They  grew  natural- 
ly out  of  one's  history  and  character.  He  could  be 
kind  and  gentle  in  his  way.  But,  mainly,  his  manners 
would  have  to  be  like  the  rugged  limbs  of  the  oak. 
The  grace  and  elegance  of  the  water-willow  and  the 
white  birch  were  not  for  him.  It  saddened  him  to 
conclude  that  he  would  have  to  be  for  a  long  time 
just  what  he  was — crude,  awkward,  unlearned  in  the 
graces  and  amenities  of  cultivated  people.  He  rightly 
judged  that  his  crudeness  would  be  a  constant  source 
of  irritation  to  the  proud  Mary.  As  their  acquaintance 
progressed  the  truth  of  his  conviction  grew  more  ap- 
parent This,  however,  did  not  so  much  concern  him 
as  her  lack  of  sympathy  with  some  of  his  deepest  mo- 
tives. He  decided  that,  after  all,  he  did  not  love  her 
and  that  to  marry  her  would  be  committing  a  great 
wrong. 

Some  of  the  unhappiest  days  of  his  life  followed. 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  385 

His  conscience  gave  him  no  rest.  He  knew  not  what 
to  do.  He  told  a  friend  that  if  his  misery  were  equally 
distributed  to  the  whole  human  race  each  would  have 
a  troublesome  burden.  He  was  wont  to  take  long 
walks  into  the  country  with  "Mr.  Nimble"  those  days, 
often  carrying1  the  boy  on  his  shoulders.  It  is  likely 
that  the  little  lad  was  a  great  comfort  to  him.  He 
wrote  a  letter  to  Miss  Todd  in  which  he  reviewed  the 
history  of  his  thinking  on  the  subject  of  their  marriage 
and  frankly  but  tenderly  stated  his  conviction  that  it 
would  imperil  her  happiness  to  marry  him.  Before 
sending  it  he  submitted  the  letter  to  his  friend  Speed. 

The  latter  read  it  over  and  looked  very  grave. 

"What  do  you  think  of  it?"     Lincoln  asked. 

"I  would  never  send  a  letter  like  that  to  a  lady," 
Speed  answered.  "If  you  feel  as  you  say  go  and  tell 
her  so,  but  don't  put  it  in  a  letter." 

Lincoln  went  to  see  her  that  evening  and  returned 
to  his  friend  in  a  more  cheerful  mood. 

"Did  you  tell  her?"  Speed  asked. 

"Yes,  I  told  her." 

"What  happened?" 

"She  burst  out  crying  and  I  threw  my  arms  around 
her  and  kissed  her  and  that  settled  it.  We  are  going; 
to  be  married." 

What  an  illustration  of  the  humanity  and  chivalry 
of  Honest  Abe  was  in  the  proceeding ! 

'Tin  sure  you'll  get  along  all  right  together,"  said 


386  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

Speed.  "Your  spirit  is  jealous  of  any  one  likely  to 
get  in  its  way.  But  she  won't  She'll  fall  in  line  and 
do  what  she  can  to  help  you." 

Now  a  little  before  this  time  Henry  Brimstead  and 
other  creditors  of  Davis  had  gone  to  Chicago  in  the 
matter  of  the  satisfaction  of  their  judgment  against 
him.  Henry  had  driven  a  wagon  across  the  prairies 
and,  returning,  had  brought  Bim  and  her  mother  to  his 
home  and  then  to  Springfield.  It  was  while  they  were 
there  that  Harry  had  come  down  to  Chicago  out  of  the 
woods  in  a  condition  of  health  which  had  alarmed  his 
physician.  The  latter  had  put  him  on  a  steamboat  and 
sent  him  east.  He  was  bound  for  the  mountain  country 
in  northern  New  York. 

Bim  and  her  mother  returned  to  Chicago  on  the 
stage,  the  former  to  take  a  place  in  the  store  as  the 
representative  of  Samson's  interest. 

Harry  was  three  years  in  the  wilderness  trying  to 
regain  his  health.  Success  came  to  him  in  the  last 
year  of  his  banishment. 

Toward  the  end  of  it  he  received  a  letter  from  Mr. 
Lincoln.  It  was  written  soon  after  that  curjous  cli- 
max in  the  courting  of  Mary  Todd.  In  this  letter  he 
said: 

"I  am  serving  my  last  term  in  the  Legislature.  I 
learn  that  you  are  in  better  health  and  I  hope  that  you 
will  have  the  strength  and  inclination  to  return  soon 
and  be  a  candidate  for  my  seat  in  the  house.  Samson 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  387 

will  not  do  it,  being1  so  busy  with  large  affairs.  You 
are  young.  You  have  won  distinction  in  the  service 
of  your  country.  You  have  studied  the  problems  of 
the  county  and  the  state.  Samson  and  Baker  and 
Logan  and  Browning  agree  with  me  that  you  are  the 
man  for  the  place. 

"As  for  myself  I  am  going  to  be  married  in  a  year 
or  so.  I  shall  have  to  give  all  my  time  to  the  practice 
of  the  law.  I  am  now  in  partnership  with  Stephen  T. 
Logan  and  am  slowly  clearing  my  conscience  of  debt. 
I  have  done  what  I  could  for  the  state  and  for  Sanga- 
mon  County.  It  hasn't  been  much.  I  want  you  to 
take  up  the  burden,  if  you  can,  until  I  get  free  of  my 
debts  at  least.  By  and  by  I  may  jump  into  the  ring 
again." 

Harry  was  glad  to  obey  the  summons.  Soon  after 
the  arrival  of  Mr.  Lincoln's  letter  his  doctor  gave  the 
young  man  what  he  called  "an  honorable  discharge." 
The  magic  of  youth  and  its  courage  and  of  good  air 
had  wrought  a  change  of  which  the  able  doctor  had  had 
little  hope  in  the  beginning. 

In  his  travels  through  the  great  forest  Harry  had 
met  David  Parish  and  Stephen  Van  Renssalaer  at 
whose  homes  on  the  shore  of  the  St.  Lawrence  he  had 
spent  many  a  happy,  summer  day.  Three  years  had 
passed  since  that  fateful  morning  on  the  prairie. 
Through  the  winters  he  had  lived  in  a  comfortable 
hunter's  camp  on  the  shore  of  Lake  Placid.  Summers 
he  had  wandered  with  a  guide  and  canoe  through  the 
lakes  and  rivers  of  the  wilderness  hunting  and  fishing 


388  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

and  reading  the  law  books  which  he  had  borrowed 
from  Judge  Fine  of  Ogdensburg.  Each  summer  he 
worked  down  the  Oswegatchie  to  that  point  for  a  visit 
with  his  new  friends.  The  history  of  every  week 
had  been  written  to  Bim  and  her  letters  had  reached 
him  at  the  points  where  he  was  wont  to  rest  in  his 
travels.  The  lovers  had  not  lost  their  ardor.  Theirs 
was  the  love  "that  hopes  and  endures  and  is  patient." 

On  a  day  in  June,  1841,  he  boarded  a  steamboat  at 
Ogdensburg  on  his  way  to  Chicago.  He  arrived  in  the 
evening  and  found  Samson  at  the  home  of  Bim  and  her 
mother — a  capacious  and  well-furnished  house  on 
Dearborn  Street.  Bim  was  then  a  little  over  twenty- 
five  years  old.  A  letter  from  John  Wentworth  says 
that  she  was  "an  exquisite  bit  of  womanhood  learned 
in  the  fine  arts  of  speech  and  dress  and  manner."  He 
spoke  also  of  her  humor  and  originality  and  of  her 
gift  for  business  "which  amounted  to  absolute  genius." 

The  store  had  doubled  in  size  under  her  management 
and  with  the  help  of  the  capital  of  Samson  and  Sarah 
Traylor.  Its  wholesale  and  retail  business  was  larger 
than  any  north  of  St.  Louis.  The  epidemic  had  seized 
her  toward  the  last  of  her  nursing  and  left  the  marks 
of  its  scourge  upon  her.  It  had  marred  her  beauty 
but  Samson  writes,  "the  girl  was  still  very  hand- 
some. She  was  well  filled  out  and  stood  as  straight 
as  an  arrow  and  was  always  dressed  as  neat  as  a  pin. 
I  fear  she  was  a  little  extravagant  about  that,  She 


A  MAN  FOR  JHE  AGES  389 

carried  her  head  like  a  sleek,  well-fed  Morgan  colt. 
She  was  kind  of  scared  to  meet  Harry  for  fear  of 
what  he'd  think  of  those  little  marks  on  her  face  but 
'I  told  her  not  to  worry." 

"You  are  the  smartest  and  loveliest  looking  creature 
that  I  ever  saw  in  my  life,"  said  Harry  after  he  had 
held  her  in  his  arms  a  moment 

"But  see  what  has  happened  to  me — look  at  my 
face,"  she  answered. 

"It  is  more  beautiful  than  ever,"  he  said.  "Those 
marks  have  doubled  my  love  for  you.  They  are  medals 
of  honor  better  than  this  one  that  I  wear." 

"Then  I  think  that  I'll  take  you  off  and  marry  you 
before  you  have  a  chance  to  fight  another  duel  or  find 
another  war  to  go  to,"  said  Bim.  "There  is  the 
mustache  that  I  used  to  long  for  and  which  wouldn't 
come,"  she  added  with  a  smile. 

"Is  there  anything  else  that  I  seem  to  need?"  Harry 
asked.  "I  could  grow  whiskers  now." 

"Don't,"  she  answered.  "The  great  need  of  the 
West  is  shears  and  razors  and  a  law  to  compel  their 
use.  There  can  be  little  romance  in  the  midst  of  so 
much  hair." 

"I  shall  be  careful  not  to  offend  you,"  Harry 
laughed.  "I  want  to  marry  you  as  soon  as  possible. 
I've  been  looking  forward  to  that  since  I  was  sixteen." 

"I  don't  hear  of  anything  but  love  and  marriage," 
said  Samson.  "We've  been  rassling  down  at  our 


390  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

house  to  keep  Josiah  from  running  off  and  getting 
married.  He's  engaged  already." 

"Engaged !    To  whom  ?"  Harry  asked. 

"To  Annabel  Brimstead.  She's  a  little  older  than 
he  is.  She  laughed  at  him  and  promised  to  marry  him 
as  soon  as  he  was  nominated  for  President  by  all  his 
friends.  She  would  now  vote  for  him  herself.  He  has 
become  a  good  athlete  and  the  best  scholar  in  school. 
He  has  every  boy  and  girl  in  the  village  working  for 
him  evenings  and  Saturdays." 

"What  are  they  doing?"  Harry  asked. 

"Making  those  newfangled  things  they  call  lucifers. 
You  can  build  a  fire  in  a  second  with  'em.  They  cut 
splinters  out  of  soft  wood,  dip  their  ends  in  brimstone 
— which  Joe  learned  how  to  make — and  put  them  in  a 
hot  oven  until  the  brimstone  is  baked.  Then  a  scratch 
will  bring  a  flame.  Joe  puts  them  up  in  bundles  and 
sells  them  to  the  merchants  and  calls  them  lucifer 
matches.  He  has  invented  a  machine  that  will  cut 
and  dip  a  thousand  splinters  an  hour.  I  tell  you 
Annabel  is  in  danger." 

He  took  a  lucifer  out  of  his  pocket  and  scratched  it 
on  the  bottom  of  his  boot.  The  party  looked  with 
wonder  at  its  flame  which  quickly  consumed  the  slen- 
der thread  of  pine  in  his  fingers. 

"I  have  always  thought  that  Joe  would  make  a 
whale  of  a  man,"  said  Harry. 

"We  all  seem  to  be  threatened  with  immediate  and 
overwhelming  happiness,"  Bim  exclaimed. 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  391 

"The  only  thing1  in  the  way  of  mine  is  the  national 
debt  that  I  have  accumulated,"  Harry  remarked. 

"I  knew  he'd  think  of  something,"  said  Bim  rue- 
fully. "If  I  wanted  to  abolish  the  noble  institution 
of  marriage  I'd  make  him  chairman  of  the  ways  and 
means  committee." 

"Harry,  your  credit  is  still  good  with  me,  and  I'm 
prosperous,"  Samson  began.  "I  want  you  to  know 
that  'Bim's  energy  and  skill  are  mostly  responsible  for 
my  success.  I  guess  we  owe  more  to  your  sickness 
than  you're  aware  of.  If  it  hadn't  been  for  that 
we  would  be  plodding  along  at  the  same  old  pace.  We 
would  not  have  felt  the  need  of  speeding  up.  It  was 
your  misfortune  that  brought  Bim  into  the  store.  If 
she  wants  to  retire  and  marry  you  I  rather  think  she 
is  entitled  to  do  it.  I  don't  want  any  more  fooling 
around  about  this  matter.  Sarah  and  I  couldn't  stand 
it.  She's  kept  me  awake  nights  talking  about  it.  The 
thing  has  worried  us  plenty.  We  rebel  and  demand 
action  before  anything  else  happens.  We  feel  as  if 
we  had  some  rights  in  this  case." 

"I  concede  them  and  second  your  demand,"  Harry 
answered.  "Bim  must  name  a  near  day.  I  only  need 
a  week  to  get  some  clothes  made  and  to  go  up  to  Mil- 
waukee on  a  little  matter  of  business." 

"I  don't  know  whether  we'll  give  him  a  week  or 
not,"  said  Bim  playfully.  "A  great  many  things  may 
happen  to  him  in  a  week." 


*  CHAPTER  XXIV 

WHICH  DESCRIBES  A  PLEASANT  HOLIDAY  AND  A  PRETTY 
STRATAGEM. 

Two  days  later  Bim  suggested  that  they  should  take 
a  day's  ride  in  the  open  and  spend  the  night  at  the  home 
of  a  friend  of  hers  in  a  settlement  known  as  Plata's 
End,  Harry  having  expressed  a  wish  to  get  out  on  the 
prairies  in  the  saddle  after  his  long  term  of  travel  on 
a  steamboat. 

"Are  you  sure  that  you  can  stand  an  all  day's  jour- 
ney?" Bim  asked. 

"I !  I  could  kill  a  bear  with  my  hands  and  carry  him 
home  on  my  back  and  eat  him  for  dinner,"  the  young 
man  boasted. 

"I've  got  enough  of  the  wild  West  in  me  to  like 
a  man  who  can  eat  bears  if  there's  nothing  better," 
said  Bim.  "I  didn't  know  but  you'd  been  spoiled  in 
the  homes  of  those  eastern  millionaires.  If  you're 
willing  to  take  what  comes  and  make  the  best  of  it, 
I'll  give  you  a  day  that  you  will  remember.  You  will 
have  to  put  up  with  a  very  simple  hospitality  but  I 
wouldn't  wonder  if  you'd  enjoy  it." 

392 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  393 

"I  can  put  up  with  anything  so  long-  as  I  have  your 
help,"  the  young  man  answered. 

"Then  I  shall  send  word  that  we  are  coming.  We 
will  leave  here  day  after  to-morrow.  Our  horses  will 
be  at  the  door  at  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning.  We 
shall  take  some  luncheon  and  reach  our  destination 
late  in  the  afternoon  and  return  next  day.  It  will 
give  us  a  good  long  visit  with  each  other  and  you'll 
know  me  better  before  we  get  back." 

"I  want  to  know  you  as  well  as  I  love  you,"  he  said. 
"I  suppose  it  will  be  like  studying  law— one  never 
gets  through  with  it." 

"I've  found  myself  a  rather  abstruse  subject — as 
bad  as  Coke,  of  which  Abe  used  to  talk  so  much  with 
my  father,"  she  declared.  "I  shall  he  glad  if  it  doesn't 
discourage  you." 

"The  mystery  of  woman  can  not  be  solved  by  intel- 
lectual processes,"  the  young  man  remarked.  "Ob- 
servation is  the  only  help  and  mine  has  been  mostly 
telescopic'.  We  have  managed  to  keep  ourselves  sepa- 
rated by  a  great  distance  even  when  we  were  near 
each  other.  It  has  been  like  looking  at  a  star  with 
a  very  limited  parallax.  It's  a  joy  to  be  able  to  see 
you  with  the  naked  eye." 

"You  will  have  little  to  look  at  on  this  holiday  but 
me  and  the  prairies,"  said  Bim. 

"I  think  the  prairies  will  be  neglected.    I  shall  wear 


394  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

my  cavalry  uniform  and  try  to  get  a  pair  of  the  best 
horses  in  Chicago  for  the  trip." 

"Then  you  would  have  to  get  mine.  I  have  a  hand- 
some pair  of  black  young  horses  from  Ohio — real 
high  steppers.  It  is  to  be  my  party.  You  will  have 
to  take  what  comes  and  make  the  best  of  it." 

The  day  of  their  journey  arrived — a  warm,  bright, 
cloudless  day  in  September  1841.  The  long  story  of 
those  years  of  separation  was  told  as  they  rode  along. 
Biggs  had  been  killed  in  a  drunken  brawl  at  Alton. 
Davis  had  gone  to  the  far  West — a  thoroughly  dis- 
credited man.  Henry  Brimstead  had  got  his  new  plow 
on  the  market  and  was  prospering  beyond  all  his 
hopes.  Eli  had  become  a  merchant  of  unusual  ability 
and  vision.  His  square  dealing  and  good  sense  had 
done  much  to  break  down  prejudice  against  the  Jews 
in  the  democracy  of  the  West.  Agents  of  the  store 
were  traveling  in  Wisconsin,  Illinois  and  Indiana  sell- 
ing its  goods  to  country  dealers.  They  carried  with 
them  the  progressive  and  enlightened  spirit  of  the  city 
and  the  news.  Everywhere  they  insisted  upon  a  high 
standard  of  honesty  in  business.  A  man  who  had  no 
respect  for  his  contract  was  struck  off  the  list.  They 
spread  the  every-day  religion  of  the  counting  room. 
They  were  a  welcome,  unifying  and  civilizing  force  in 
the  middle  country.  Samson  Traylor  was  getting 
wealth  and  a  reputation  for  good  sense.  He  had  made 
the  plan  on  which  the  business  had  developed.  He 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  395 

had  proved  himself  a  wise  and  far-seeing  man.  Sarah's 
friends  had  been  out  in  Springfield  for  a  visit.  They 
had  invested  money  in  the  business.  Her  brother  had 
decided  to  bring  his  family  West  and  settle  in  Sanga- 
mon  County. 

The  lovers  stopped  in  a  grove  at  noon  and  fed  their 
horses  and  Harry,  who  had  a  bundle  of  Joe's  lucifer 
matches  in  his  pocket — a  gift  from  Samson — built  a 
fire  and  made  a  broach  of  green  sticks  on  which  he 
broiled  beef  steak. 

A  letter  from  Harry  to  Sarah  Traylor  tells  of  the 
beauty  of  the  day — of  blue  bells  and  scarlet  lilies  in 
the  meadow  grass,  of  the  whistling  quail,  of  pigeons 
and  wild  geese  flying  across  the  sky  and  of  his  great 
joy  in  seeing  again  the  vast  sunlit  reaches  of  the  level, 
virgin  lands. 

"It  was  my  great  day  of  fulfillment,  all  the  dearer 
because  I  had  come  back  to  health  and  youth  and  be- 
loved scenes  out  of  those  years  shadowed  with  loneli- 
ness and  despair,"  he  writes.  "The  best  part  of  it,  I 
assure  you,  was  the  face  I  loved  and  that  musical 
voice  ringing  like  a  bell  in  merry  laughter  and  in  the 
songs  which  had  stirred  my  heart  in  the  days  of  its 
tender  youth.  You — the  dear  and  gentle  mother  of 
my  later  boyhood — are  entitled  to  know  of  my  happi- 
ness when  I  heard  that  voice  tell  me  in  its  sweeter  tone 
of  the  love  which  has  endured  through  all  these  years 
of  stern  trial.  We  talked  of  our  plans  as  we  sat 
among  the  ferns  and  mosses  in  the  cool  shade  sweet- 


396  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

ened  by  the  incense  of  burning  fagots,  over  that  re- 
past to  which  we  shall  be  returning  often  for  refresh- 
ment in  poorer  days.  We  had  thought  of  you  and 
of  the  man  so  well  beloved  of  you  and  us  in  all  these 
plans.  We  shall  live  in  Springfield  so  that  we  may 
be  near  you  and  him  and  our  friend,  Honest  Abe." 

It  is  a  long  letter  presenting  minute  details  in  the 
history  of  that  sentimental  journey  and  allusion  to 
matters  which  have  no  part  in  this  record.  Its  sub- 
stance being  fully  in  the  consciousness  of  the  writer, 
he  tenderly  folds  it  up  and  returns  it  to  the  package — 
yellow  and  brittle  and  faded  and  having  that  curious 
fragrance  of  papers  that  have  lain  for  scores  of  years 
in  the  gloom  and  silence  of  a  locked  mahogany  drawer. 
So  alive  are  these  letters  with  the  passion  of  youth  in 
long  forgotten  years  that  the  writer  ties  the  old  rib- 
bon and  returns  them  to  their  tomb  with  a  feeling  of 
sadness,  finding  a  singular  pathos  in  the  contrast  of 
their  look  and  their  contents.  They  are  turning  to 
dust  but  the  soul  of  them  has  gone  into  this  little  his- 
tory. 

The  young  man  and  woman  mounted  their  horses 
and  resumed  their  journey.  It  was  after  two  o'clock. 
The  Grand  Prairie  lay  ahead  of  them.  The  settlement 
of  Plain's  End  was  twenty-one  miles  away  on  its  far- 
ther side.  They  could  just  see  its  tall  oak  trees  in' the 
dim  distance. 

"We  must  hurry  if  we  get  there  before  dark,"  said 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  397 

the  girl.  "Above  all  we  must  be  careful  to  keep  our 
direction.  It's  easy  to  get  lost  down  in  the  great 
prairie." 

They  heard  a  cat-bird  singing  in  a  near  thicket  as 
they  left  their  camp.  It  reminded  Bim  of  her  favorite 
ballad  and  she  sang  it  with  the  spirit  of  old: 

"My  sweetheart,  come  along — » 
Don't  you  hear  the  glad  song 
As  the  notes  of  the  nightingale  flow  I* 
Don't  you  hear  the  fond  tale  of  the 

sweet  nightingale 
As  she  sings  in  the  valleys  below? 
As  she  sings  in  the  valleys  below?" 

They  went  on  shoulder-deep  in  the  tall  grass  on  the 
lower  stretches  of  the  prairie.  Here  and  there  it  gave 
Harry  the  impression  that  he  was  swimming  his  horse 
in  "noisy,  vivid  green  water."  They  startled  a  herd  of 
deer  and  a  number  of  wild  horses.  When  they  lost 
sight  of  the  woods  at  Plain's  End  the  young  man,  with 
his  cavalry  training,  was  able  to  ride  standing  on  his 
saddle  until  he  had  got  it  located.  It  reminded  him 
of  riding  i'n  the  Everglades  and  he  told  of  his  adven- 
tures there  as  they  went  on,  but  very  modestly.  He 
said  not  a  word  of  his  heroi£  fight  the  day  that  he  and 
sixty  of  his  comrades  were  cut  off  and  surrounded  in 
the  "land  of  the  grassy  waters."  But  Bim  had  heard 
the  story  from  other  lips. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  the  woods  loomed  in  front  of 


398  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

them  scarcely  a  mile  off.  Near  the  end  of  the  prairie 
they  came  to  a  road  which  led  them  past  the  door  of  a 
lonely  cabin.  It  seemed  to  be  deserted,  but  its  win- 
dows were  clean  and  a  faint  column  of  smoke  rose 
from  its  chimney.  There  were  hollyhocks  and  sun- 
flowers in  its  small  and  cleanly  dooryard.  A  morning- 
glory  vine  had  been  trained  around  the  windows. 

"Broad  Creek  is  just  beyond,"  said  Bim.  "I  don't 
know  how  the  crossing1  will  be." 

They  came  presently  to  the  creek,  unexpectedly 
swollen.  A  man  stood  on  the  farther  shore  with  some 
seventy  feet  of  deep  and  rapid  water  between  him 
and  the  travelers. 

"That  man  looks  like  Stephen  Nuckles,"  said  Harry. 

"It  is  Stephen  Nuckles,"  Bim  answered. 

"Hello,  Steve!"  the  young  soldier  called. 

"Howdy,  boy!"  said  the  old  minister.  "That  ar 
creek  is  b'ilin'  over.  I  reckon  you'll  have  to  swim  the 
hosses." 

"They're  young  city  horses  and  not  broke  to  deep 
water  but  we'll  try  them,"  said  Bim. 

They  tried  but  Bim's  horse  refused  to  go  beyond 
good  footing. 

"You  kin  light  at  that  ar  house  an'  spend  the  night 
but  the  folks  have  gone  erway,"  the  minister  called. 

"I  guess  you'll  have  to  marry  us  right  here  and 
now,"  Harry  proposed.  "Night  is  coming  and  that 
house  is  our  only  refuge." 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  399 

"Poor  boy !  There  seems  to  be  no  escape  for  you !" 
Bim  exclaimed  with  a  sigh.  "Do  you  really  and  hon- 
estly want  to  marry  me?  If  there's  any  doubt  about 
it  I'll  leave  the  horses  with  you  and  swim  the  creek. 
You  could  put  them  in  the  barn  and  swim  with  me  or 
spend  the  night  in  the  cabin." 

He  embraced  and  kissed  her  in  a  way  that  left  no 
doubt  of  his  wishes. 

"It's  a  cool  evening  and  the  creek  is  very  wet,"  he 
answered.  "I'm  going  to  take  this  matter  in  my  own 
hands." 

He  called  to  the  minister :  "Steve,  this  is  the  luckiest 
moment  of  my  life  and  you  are  just  the  man  of  all  oth- 
ers I  would  have  chosen  for  its  most  important  job. 
Can  you  stand  right  where  you  are  and  marry  us?" 

"You  bet  I  kin,  suh,"  the  minister  answered.  "I've 
often  said  I  could  marry  any  one  half  a  mile  erway  if 
they  would  only  talk  as  loud  as  I  kin.  I've  got  the  good 
book  right  hyah  in  my  pocket,  suh.  My  ol'  woman  is 
comin'.  She'll  be  hyah  in  a  minute  fer  to  witness  the 
perceedin's." 

Mrs.  Nuckles  made  her  appearance  on  the  river  bank 
in  a  short  time. 

Then  the  minister  shouted :  "We'll  begin  by  readin' 
the  nineteenth  chapter  of  Matthew." 

He  shouted  the  chapter  and  the  usual  queries,  knelt 
and  prayed  and  pronounced  them  man  and  wife. 

The  young  man  and  woman  walked  to  the  cabin 


400  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES' 

and  put  their  horses  in  its  barn,  where  they  found  an 
abundance  of  hay  and  oats.  They  rapped  at  the  cabin 
door  but  got  no  response.  They  lifted  its  latch  and 
entered. 

A  table  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  room  set  for  two. 
On  its  cover  of  spotless  white  linen  were  plates  and 
cups  and  saucers  and  a  big  platter  of  roasted  prairie 
chickens  and  a  great  frosted  cake  and  preserves  and 
jellies  and  potato  salad  and  a  pie  and  a  bottle  of  cur- 
rant wine.  A  clock  was  ticking  on  the  shelf.  There 
were  live  embers  in  the  fireplace  and  wood  in  the  box, 
and  venison  hanging  in  the  chimney. 

The  young  soldier  looked  about  him  and  smiled. 

"This  is  wonderful!"  he  exclaimed.  "To  whom 
are  we  indebted?" 

"You  don't  think  I'd  bring  you  out  here  on  the  plains 
and  marry  you  and  not  treat  you  well,"  Bim  laughed. 
"I  warned  you  that  you'd  have  to  take  what  came  and 
that  the  hospitality  would  be  simple." 

"It's  a  noble  and  benevolent  conspiracy  that  has 
turned  this  cabin  into  a  Paradise  and  brought  all  this 
happiness  upon  me,"  he  said  as  he  kissed  her.  "I 
thought  it  strange  that  Mr.  Nuckles  should  be  on  hand 
at  the  right  moment." 

"The  creek  was  a  harder  thing  to  manage,"  she  an- 
swered with  a  smile.  "I  told  my  messenger  to  see 
that  the  gate  of  the  reservoir  was  opened  at  four 
o'clock.  So,  you  see,  you  had  to  marry  or  swim. 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  401 

Now  I've  made  a  clean  breast  of  it.  I  felt  sure  some- 
thing would  happen  before  you  got  back  from  Mil- 
waukee. I  was  plum  superstitious  about  it." 

The  young  man  shook  with  laughter  and  said :  "You 
are  the  new  woman  born  of  the  democracy  of  the 
West." 

"I  began  to  fear  that  I  should  be  an  old  woman  be- 
fore I  got  to  be  Mrs.  Needles." 

"Whose  house  is  this?"  he  asked  in  a  moment 

"It  is  the  home  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Peter  Lukins. 
Their  land  near  Chicago  is  now  used  for  a  cattle  yard 
and  slaughter-house  and  is  paying  them  a  good  in- 
come. They  moved  here  some  time  ago.  He  looks  aft- 
er the  reservoir.  Mrs.  Lukins  i's  a  famous  cook  as 
you  will  see.  We  can  stay  here  as  long  as  we  want 
to.  We  shall  find  everything  we  need  in  the  well, 
the  chimney,  the  butt'ry  and  the  cellar.  And  here 
is  the  wedding  supper  all  ready  for  us  and  I  as  hungry 
as  a  bear." 

"In  the  words  of  Mrs.  Lukins  'it  i's  very  copasetic,' 
and  I  begin  to  feel  that  I  have  made  some  progress  in 
the  study  of  Bim  Kelso.  Come,  let's  have  our  supper." 

"Not  until  you  have  broiled  a  piece  of  venison.  It 
will  take  a  lot  of  food  to  satisfy  me.  I'll  get  the  cream 
and  butter  out  of  the  well  and  make  a  pot  of  coffee. 
Hurry  up,  Harry,  I'm  starving." 

Darkness  fell  upon  the  busy  lovers  and  soon  the 
firelight  and  the  glow  of  many  candles  filled  the  homely 


402  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

cabin  with  flickering  shadows  and  a  soft  beautiful 
color. 

"Supper  is  ready,"  she  said,  when  the  venison  steak 
had  been  deposited  on  the  platter. 

"Bim,  I  love  you  not  as  most  men  love,"  he  said  as 
they  stood  a  moment  by  the  side  of  the  table.  "From 
the  bottom  of  my  heart  I  do  ~espect  you  for  your 
honor  and  good  faith  and  when  I  think  of  that  and  of 
all  you  have  suffered  for  my  sake  I  bow  my  head  and 
ask  God  to  make  me  worthy  of  such  a  helper." 

They  sat  down  to  this  unusual  wedding  feast  and 
as  we  leave  them  the  windows  of  the  little  cabin  fling 
their  light  far  out  upon  the  level  plain;  we  hear  the 
sound  of  merry  laughter  and  of  the  tall  grasses 
rustling  and  reeling  joyously  in  the  breeze.  The  moon 
in  mid-heaven  and  the  innumerable  host  around  it  seem 
to  know  what  is  passing  on  the  edge  of  the  Grand 
Prairie  and  to  be  well  pleased.  Surely  there  is  nothing 
that  finds  a  quicker  echo  in  the  great  heart  of  the  world 
than  human  happiness ! 


CHAPTER  XXV 

BEING  A  BRIEF  MEMOIR  BY  THE  HONORABLE  AND  VEN- 
ERABLE MAN  KNOWN  IN  THESE  PAGES  AS  JOSIAH 
TRAYLOR,  WHO  SAW  THE  GREAT  PROCESSION  OF 
EVENTS  BETWEEN  ANDREW  JACKSON  AND  WOOD- 
ROW  WILSON  AND  ESPECIALLY  THE  MAKING  AND 
THE  END  OF  LINCOLN. 

Now,  as  I  have  done  often  sitting  in  the  chimney 
corner  at  the  day's  end,  I  look  back  at  my  youth  and 
manhood  and  tell,  with  one  eye  upon  the  clock,  of  those 
•years  of  fulfillment  in  the  progress  of  our  beloved  pil- 
grim. There  are  four  and  twenty  of  them  that  I  shall 
try  to  review  in  as  many  minutes.  At  this  distance  I 
see  only  the  high  places— one  looming  above  another 
like  steps  in  a  stairway. 

The  years  of  building  and  sentiment  ended  on  the 
fourth  of  November,  1842,  when  he  and  Mary  Todd 
were  joined  in  marriage.  Now,  like  one  having  taken 
note  of  the  storm  clouds,  he  strengthens  the  structure. 

Mary  tried  to  teach  him  fine  manners.  It  was  a 
difficult  undertaking.  Often,  as  might  have  been  ex- 
pected, she  lost  her  patience.  Mary  was  an  excellent 
girl,  but  rather  kindlesome  and  pragmatic.  Like  most 

403 


404  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

of  the  prairie  folk,  for  instance,  Abe  Lincoln  had  been 
accustomed  to  reach  for  the  butter  with  his  own  knife, 
and  to  find  rest  in  attitudes  extremely  indolent  and 
unbecoming.  He  enjoyed  sprawling  on  the  floor  in 
his  shirt-sleeves  and  slippers  with  a  pillow  under  his 
head  and  a  book  in  his  hand.  He  had  a  liking  for  ample 
accommodation  not  fully  satisfied  by  a  bed  or  a  lounge. 
Mary  undertook  to  turn  him  into  new  ways  and 
naturally  there  was  irritation  in  the  house,  but  I  think 
they  got  along  very  well  together  for  all  that.  Mary 
grew  fond  of  him  and  proud  of  his  great  talents  and 
was  a  devoted  wife.  For  years  she  did  the  work  of  the 
house  and  bore  him  children.  He  milked  the  cow  and 
took  care  of  the  horse  when  he  was  at  home. 

Annabel  and  I,  having  just  been  married,  went  with 
him  to  Washington  on  our  wedding-tour  in  1847.  He 
was  taking  his  seat  in  Congress  that  year.  We  were 
with  him  there  when  he  met  Webster.  Lincoln  was 
deeply  impressed  by  the  quiet  dignity  of  the  great  man. 
We  went  together  to  hear  Emerson  lecture.  It  was  a 
motley  audience — business  men,  fashionable  ladies  and 
gentlemen,  statesmen,  politicians,  women  with  their 
knitting,  and  lion-hunters.  The  tall,  awkward  orator 
ascended  the  platform,  took  off  his  top-coat  and  drew 
a  manuscript  from  his  pocket.  He  had  a  narrow, 
sloping  forehead,  a  prominent  nose,  gray  eyes  and  a 
skin  of  singular  transparency.  His  voice  was  rich  and 
mellow  but  not  strong.  Lincoln  listened  with  rapt 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  405 

attention  to  his  talk  about  Democracy.  It  was  a  mem- 
orable night.  He  spoke  of  it  often.  Such  contact 
with  the  great  spirits  of  that  time,  of  which  he  studi- 
ously availed  himself  in  Washington,  was  of  great 
value  to  the  statesman  from  Illinois.  His  experiences 
on  the  floor  were  in  no  way  important  to  him,  but 
since  1914  I  have  thought  often  of  what  he  said  there, 
regarding  Folk's  invasion  of  Mexico,  unauthorized  by 
Congress  as  it  was : 

"The  Provision  of  the  Constitution  giving  the  war- 
making  power  to  Congress  was  dictated,  as  I  under- 
stand it,  by  the  following  reasons:  kings  had  always 
been  involving  and  impoverishing  their  people  in  wars, 
pretending  generally  that  the  good  of  the  people  was 
the  object.  This  our  convention  understood  to  be  the 
most  oppressive  of  all  kingly  oppressions  and  they  pro- 
posed to  so  frame  the  constitution  that  no  man  should 
hold  the  power  of  bringing  this  oppression  upon  wj." 

The  next  year  he  stumped  Massachusetts  for  "Zach" 
Taylor  and  heard  Governor  Seward  deliver  his  re- 
markable speech  on  Slavery  whfch  contained  this 
striking  utterance : 

"Congress  has  no  power  to  inhibit  any  duty  com- 
manded by  God  on  Mount  Sinai  or  by  His  Son  on 
the  Mount  of  Olives." 

On  his  return  home  Lincoln  confessed  that  we  had 
soon  to  deal  with  that  question. 

I  was  in  his  office  when  Herndon  said: 


4o6  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

"I  tell  you  that  slavery  must  be  rooted  out." 

"What  makes  you  think  so?"  Mr.  Lincoln  asked. 

"I  feel  it  in  my  bones,"  was  Herndon's  answer. 

After  that  he  used  to  speak  with  respect  of  "Bill 
Herndon's  bone  philosophy." 

His  term  in  Congress  having1  ended,  he  came  back 
to  the  law  in  partnership  with  William  H.  Herndon — a 
man  of  character  and  sound  judgment  Those  days 
Lincoln  wore  black  trousers,  coat  and  stock,  a  waistcoat 
of  satin  and  a  Wellington  high  hat.  He  was  wont  to 
carry  his  papers  in  his  hat.  Mary  had  wrought  a  great 
change  in  his  external  appearance. 

They  used  to  call  him  "a  dead  square  lawyer."  I 
remember  that  once  Herndon  had  drawn  up  a  fictitious 
plea  founded  on  a  shrewd  assumption.  Lincoln  care- 
fully examined  the  papers. 

"Is  it  founded  on  fact?"  he  asked. 

"No,"  Herndon  answered. 

Lincoln  scratched  his  head  thoughtfully  and  asked : 

""Billy,  hadn't  we  better  withdraw  that  plea?  You 
know  it's  a  sham  and  generally  that's  another  name 
for  a  lie.  Don't  let  it  go  on  record.  The  cursed  thing 
may  come  staring  us  in  the  face  long  after  this  suit 
has  been  forgotten." 

On  the  whole  he  was  not  so  communicative  as  he  had 
been  in  his  young  manhood.  He  suffered  days  of  de- 
pression when  he  said  little.  Often,  in  good  company, 
he  seemed  to  be  thinking  of  things  in  no  way  connected 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  407 

with  the  talk.  Many  called  him  a  rather  "shut-mouthed 
man." 

Herndon  used  to  say  that  the  only  thing  he  had 
against  Lincoln  was  his  habit  of  coming  in  mornings 
and  sprawling  on  the  lounge  and  reading  aloud  from 
the  newspaper. 

The  people  of  the  town  loved  him.  One  day  as  we 
were  walking  along  the  street  together  we  came  upon 
a  girl  dressed  tip  and  crying  in  front  of  her  father's 
door. 

"What's  the  matter?"  Lincoln  asked. 

"I  want  to  take  the  train  and  the  wagon  hasn't  come 
for  my  trunk,"  said  she. 

Lincoln  went  in  and  got  the  trunk  and  carried  it  to 
the  station  on  his  back,  with  people  laughing  and 
throwing  jokes  at  him  as  he  strode  along.  When  I 
think  of  him  his  chivalry  and  kindness  come  first  to 
mind. 

He  read  much,  but  his  days  of  book  study  were 
nearly  ended.  His  learning  was  now  got  mostly  in  the 
school  of  experience.  Herndon  says,  and  I  think  it  is 
true,  that  he  never  read  to  the  end  of  a  law  book  those 
days.  The  study  of  authorities  was  left  to  the  junior 
partner.  His  reading  was  mostly  outside  the  law.  His 
knowledge  of  science  was  derived  from  Chambers's 
Vestiges  of  the  Natural  History  of  Creation. 

He  was  still  afraid  of  the  Abolition  Movement  in 
1852  and  left  town  to  avoid  a  convention  of  its  adher- 


4o8  M  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

ents.  He  thought  the  effort  to  resist  by  force  the  laws 
of  Kansas  was  criminal  and  would  hurt  the  cause  of 
freedom.  "Let  us  have  peace  and  revolutionize 
through  the  ballot-box,"  he  urged. 

In  1854  a  little  quarrel  in  New  York  began  to  weave 
the  thread  of  destiny.  Seward,  Weed  and  Greeley  had 
wielded  decisive  power  in  the  party  councils  of 
that  state.  Seward  was  a  high  headed,  popu- 
lar idol.  His  plans  and  his  triumphant  progress 
absorbed  his  thought  Weed  was  dazzled  by  the  splen- 
dor of  this  great  star.  Neither  gave  a  thought  to  their 
able  colleague — a  poor  man  struggling  to  build  up  a 
great  newspaper.  An  office,  with  fair  pay,  would  have 
been  a  help  to  him  those  days.  But  he  got  no  recog- 
nition of  his  needs  and  talents  and  services.  Suddenly 
he  wrote  a  letter  to  Weed  in  which  he  said : 

"The  firm  of  Seward,  Weed  and  Greeley  is  hereby 
•dissolved  by  the  resignation  of  its  junior  member." 

When  Greeley  had  grown  in  power  and  wisdom  until 
his  name  was  known  and  honored  from  ocean  to  ocean, 
they  tried  to  make  peace  with  him,  but  in  vain. 

Then  suddenly  a  new  party  and  a  new  Lincoln  were 
born  on  the  same  day  in  1856  at  a  great  meeting  in 
Bloomington,  Illinois.  There  his  soul  was  to  come  into 
its  stateliest  mansion  out  of  its  lower  vaulted  past.  For 
him  the  fulness  of  time  had  arrived.  He  was  prepared 
for  it.  His  intellect  had  also  reached  the  fulness  of  its 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  409 

power.  Now  his  great  right  hand  was  ready  for  the 
thunderbolts  which  his  spirit  had  been  slowly  forging. 
God  called  him  in  the  voices  of  the  crowd.  He  was 
quick  to  answer.  He  went  up  the  steps  to  the  platform. 
I  saw,  as  he  came  forward,  that  he  had  taken  the  cross 
upon  him.  Oh,  it  was  a  memorable  thing  to  see  the 
smothered  flame  of  his  spirit  leaping  into  his  face.  His 
hands  were  on  his  hips.  He  seemed  to  grow  taller  as  he 
advanced.  The  look  of  him  reminds  me  now  of  what 
the  famous  bronze  founder  in  Paris  said  of  the  death- 
mask,  that  it  was  the  most  beautiful  head  and  face  he 
had  ever  seen.  What  shall  I  say  of  his  words  save  that 
it  seemed  to  me  that  the  voice  of  God  was  in  them? 
I  never  saw  an  audience  so  taken  up  and  swept  away. 
The  reporters  forgot  to  report.  It  is  a  lost  speech. 
There  is  no  record  of  it.  I  suppose  it  was  scribbled 
with  a  pencil  on  scraps  of  paper  and  on  the  backs  of 
envelopes  at  sundry  times,  agreeably  with  his  habit,  and 
committed  to  memory.  So  this  great  speech,  called  by 
some  the  noblest  effort  of  his  life,  was  never  printed. 
I  remember  one  sentence  relating  to  the  Nebraska  bill : 

"Let  us  -use  ballots,  not  bullets,  against  the  \veapons 
of  violence,  which  are  those  of  kingcraft.  Their  fruits 
are  the  dying  bed  of  the  fearless  Sumner,  the  ruins  of 
the  Free  State  Hotel,  the  smoking  timbers  of  the  Her- 
ald of  Freedom,  the  Governor  of  Kansas  chained  to  a 
stake  like  a  horse-thief." 

In  June,  1858,  he  took  the  longest  step  of  all.    The 


410  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

Republican  State  Convention  had  endorsed  him  for  the 
United  States  Senate.  It  was  then  that  he  wrote  on 
envelopes  and  scraps  of  paper  at  odd  moments,  when 
his  mind  was  off  duty,  the  speech  beginning : 

"A  house  divided  against  itself  must  fall.  Our  Gov- 
ernment can  not  long  endure  part  slave  and  part 
free." 

I  was  among  the  dozen  friends  to  whom  he  read 
that  speech  in  the  State  House  library.  One  said  of 
those  first  sentences:  "It  is  a  fool  utterance." 
Another:  "It  is  ahead  of  its  time."  Another  declared 
that  it  would  drive  away  the  Democrats  who  had  lately 
joined  the  party.  Herndon  and  I  were  the  only  ones 
who  approved  it. 

Lincoln  had  come  to  another  fork  in  the  road.  For 
a  moment  I  wondered  which  way  he  would  go. 

Immediately  he  rose  and  said  with  an  emphasis  that 
silenced  opposition : 

"Friends,  this  thing  has  been  held  back  long  enough. 
The  time  has  come  when  these  sentiments  should  be 
tittered,  and  if  it  is  decreed  that  I  shall  go  down  be- 
cause of  this  speech,  then  let  me  go  down  linked  to 
the  truth." 

His  conscience  had  prevailed.  The  speech  was  de- 
livered. Douglas,  the  Democratic  candidate,  came  on 
from  Washington  to  answer  it.  That  led  to  Lincoln's 
challenge  to  a  joint  debate.  I  was  with  him  through 
that  long  campaign.  Douglas  was  the  more  finished 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  411 

orator.  Lincoln  spoke  as  he  split  rails.  His  con- 
iscience  was  his  beetle.  It  drove  his  arguments  deep 
into  the  souls  of  his  hearers.  The  great  thing  about 
Ihim  was  his  conscience.  Unless  his  theme  were  big 
enough  to  give  it  play  in  noble  words  he  could  be  as 
commonplace  as  any  one.  He  was  built  for  a  tool  of 
God  in  tremendous  moral  issues.  He  was  awkward 
and  diffident  in  beginning  a  speech.  Often  his  hands 
were  locked  behind  him.  He  gesticulated  more  with 
ihis  head  than  his  hands.  He  stood  square-toed  always. 
•He  never  walked  about  on  the  platform.  He  scored 
his  points  with  the  long,  bony,  index  finger  of  his  right 
hand.  Sometimes  he  would  hang  a  hand  on  the  lapel 
of  his  coat  as  if  to  rest  it.  Perspiration  dripped  from 
his  face.  His  voice,  high  pitched  at  first,  mellowed 
into  a  pleasant  sound. 

One  sentence  in  Lincoln's  speech  at  Ottawa  thrust 
"The  Little  Giant"  of  Illinois  out  of  his  way  forever. 
It  was  this  pregnant  query : 

"Can  the  people  of  a  United  States  territory  in  any 
lawful  way  and  against  the  wish  of  any  citizen  of  the 
United  States  exclude  slavery  from  its  limits  prior  to 
the  formation  of  a  state  constitution  ?" 

He  knew  that  Douglas  would  answer  yes  and  that, 
doing  so,  he  would  alienate  the  South  and  destroy  his 
chance  to  be  President  two  years  later.  That  is  ex- 
actly what  came  to  pass.  "The  Little  Giant's"  answer 
was  the  famous  "Freeport  Heresy."  He  was  elected  to 


412  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

the  Senate  but  was  no  longer  possible  as  a  candidate 
for  the  Presidency. 

I  come  now  to  the  last  step  in  the  career  of  my 
friend  and  beloved  master.  It  was  the  Republican  con- 
vention of  1860  in  Chicago.  I  was  a  delegate.  The 
New  Yorkers  came  in  white  beaver  hats  enthusiastic 
for  Seward,  their  favorite  son.  He  was  the  man  we 
dreaded  most.  Many  in  the  great  crowd  were  wearing 
his  colors.  The  delegations  were  in  earnest  session  the 
night  before  the  balloting  began.  The  hotel  corridors 
were  thronged  with  excited  men.  My  father  had  be- 
come a  man  of  wealth  and  great  influence  in  Illinois. 
I  was  with  him  when  he  went  into  the  meeting  of  the 
Michigan  delegates  and  talked  to  them.  He  told  how 
he  came  West  in  a  wagon  and  saw  the  spirit  of  America 
in  the  water  floods  of  Niagara  and  went  on  to  the 
cabin  village  of  New  Salem  and  saw  again  the  spirit 
of  America  i'n  the  life  of  the  boy,  Abe  Lincoln,  then 
flowing  toward  its  manhood.  When  he  sat  down  the 
Honorable  Dennis  Flanagan  arose  and  told  of  meeting 
the  Traylor  party  at  the  Falls  when  he  was  driving 
an  ox-team,  in  a  tall  beaver  hat ;  how  he  had  remem- 
bered their  good  advice  and  cookies  and  jerked  venison. 

"Gentlemen,"  he  said,  "I  am  willing  to  take  the  word 
of  a  man  whose  name  is  hallowed  by  my  dearest  recol- 
lections. And  believing  what  he  has  said  of  Abraham 
Lincoln  I  am  for  him  on  the  second  ballot." 

The  green  Irish  lad,  whom  I  remember  dimly,  had 


A  MAN  FORTTHE  AGES  413 

become  a  great  political  chieftain  and  his  words  had 
much  effect.  There  was  a  stir  among  the  delegates.  I 
turned  and  saw  the  tall  form  of  Horace  Greeley  enter- 
ing the  door.  His  big,  full  face  looked  rather  serious. 
He  wore  gold-bowed  spectacles.  He  was  smooth- 
shaven  save  for  the  silken,  white,  throat  beard  that 
came  out  from  under  his  collar.  Hi3  head  was  bald  on 
top  with  soft,  silvered  locks  over  each  ear.  He  was  a 
picturesque  and  appealing  figure.  They  called  on  him 
to  speak.  He  stepped  forward  and  said  slowly  in  a 
high-pitched  drawl : 

"Gentlemen,  this  is  my  speech:  On  your  second 
ballot  vote  for  Abraham  Lincoln  of  Illinois." 

He  bowed  and  left  the  room  and  visited  many  dele- 
gations, and  everywhere  expressed  hi's  convictions  in 
this  formula.  Backed  by  his  tremendous  personality 
and  influence  the  simple  words  were  impressive.  I 
doubt  not  they  turned  scores  of  men  from  Seward  to 
the  great  son  of  Illinois. 

Then — the  campaign  with  its  crowds,  its  enthusiasm, 
its  Vesuvian  mutterings.  There  was  a  curious  touch 
of  humor  and  history  in  its  banners.  Here  are  three 
of  them : 

"Menard  County  for  the  Tall  Sucker." 

"We  are  for  old  Abe  the  Giant-Killer." 

"Link  on  to  Lincoln." 

Then — those  last  days  in  Springfield. 

He  came  to  the  office  the  afternoon  before  he  left 


414  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

and  threw  himself  on  the  lounge  and  talked  of  bygone 
days  with  Herndon. 

"Billy,  how  long  have  we  been  together?"  he  asked. 

"Sixteen  years." 

"Never  a  cross  word." 

"Never." 

"Keep  the  old  sign  hanging.  A  little  thing  like  the 
election  of  a  President  should  make  no  change  in  the 
firm  of  Lincoln  and  Herndon,  If  I  live  I'm  coming 
back  some  time  and  then  we'll  go  right  on  with  the 
practice  of  the  law  as  if  nothing  had  happened." 

Then — that  Monday  morning  in  Springfield  when  at 
eight  o'clock  on  the  eleventh  of  February  the  train  bore 
him  toward  the  great  task  of  his  life.  Hannah  Arm- 
strong, who  had  foxed  his  trousers  in  New  Salem,  and 
the  venerable  Doctor  Allen  and  the  Brimsteads,  and 
Aleck  Ferguson,  bent  with  age,  and  Harry  Needles 
and  Bim  and  their  four  handsome  children,  and  my 
father  and  mother,  and  Betsey,  my  maiden  sister,  and 
Eli  Fredenberg  were  there  in  the  crowd  to  bid  him 
good-by. 

A  quartet  sang.  Mr.  Lincoln  asked  his  friends  and 
neighbors  to  pray  for  his  success.  He  was  moved  by 
the  sight  of  them  and  could  not  have  said  much  if  he 
had  tried.  The  bell  rang.  The  train  started.  He 
waved  his  hand  and  was  gone.  Not  many  of  us  who 
stood  trying  to  see  through  our  tears  were  again  tc» 
look  upon  him.  The  years  of  preparation  were  ended 
and  those  of  sacrifice  had  begun. 


A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES  415 

Now,  we  are  at  the  foot  of  the  last  hill.  For  a  long 
time  I  had  seen  it  looming  in  the  distance.  Those  days 
it  filled  my  heart  with  a  great  fear.  Now,  how  beauti- 
ful, how  lonely  it  seems !  Oh,  but  what  a  vineyard  on 
that  very  fruitful  hill !  I  speak  low  when  I  think  of  it. 
Harry  Needles  and  I  were  on  our  way  to  Wash- 
ington that  fateful  night  of  April  14,  1865.  We 
reached  there  at  an  early  hour  in  the  morning.  We 
made  our  way  through  the  crowded  streets  to  the  little 
house  opposite  Ford's  Theatre.  An  officer  who  knew 
me  cleared  a  way  for  us  to  the  door.  Reporters,  states- 
men, citizens  and  their  families  were  massed  in  the 
street  waiting  with  tear-stained  faces  for  the  end. 
Some  of  them  were  sobbing  as  we  passed.  We  were 
admitted  without  delay.  A  minister  and  the  doctor 
sat  by  the  bedside.  The  latter  held  an  open  watch  in 
his  hand.  I  could  hear  it  ticking  the  last  moments  in 
an  age  of  history.  What  a  silence  as  the  great  soul  of 
my  friend  was  "breaking  camp  to  go  home."  Friends 
of  the  family  and  members  of  the  Cabinet  were  in  the 
room.  Through  the  open  door  of  a  room  beyond  I 
saw  Mrs.  Lincoln  and  the  children  and  others.  We 
looked  at  our  friend  lying  on  the  bed.  His  kindly  face 
was  pale  and  haggard.  He  breathed  faintly  and  at 
long  intervals.  His  end  was  near. 

"Poor  Abe!"  Harry  whispered  as  he  looked  down  at 
him.  "He  has  had  to  die  on  the  cross." 

To  most  of  those  others  Lincoln  was  the  great  states- 
man. Jo  Harry  he  was  still  the  beloved  Abe  who  had 


416  A  MAN  FOR  THE  AGES 

shared  his  fare  and  his  hardships  in  many  a  long,  weary 
way. 

The  doctor  put  his  ear  against  the  breast  of  the 
dying  man.  There  was  a  moment  in  which  we  could 
hear  the  voices  in  the  street.  The  doctor  rose  and 
said:  "He  is  gone." 

Secretary  Stanton,  who  more  than  once  had  spoken 
lightly  of  him,  came  to  the  bedside  and  tenderly  closed 
the  eyes  of  his  master,  saying : 

"Now,  he  belongs  to  the  ages." 

We  went  out  of  the  door.  The  sound  of  mourning 
was  in  the  streets.  A  dozen  bells  were  tolling.  On 
the  corner  of  Tenth  Street  a  quartet  of  negroes  was 
singing  that  wonderful  prayer : 

"Swing  low,  sweet  chariot,  comin'  for  to  carry  me 
home." 

One  of  them,  whose  rich,  deep  bass  thrilled  me  and 
all  who  heard  it,  was  Roger  Wentworth,  the  fugitive, 
who  had  come  to  our  house  with  Bim,  in  the  darkness 
of  the  night,  long  before. 

THE  END 


A  Man  for  the  Ages 

When  Abraham  Lincoln 
closed  his  eyes  for  the  last 
time,  Secretary  Stanton,  who 
stood  at  his  bedside,  said,  "He 
was  a  man  for  the  ages.  And 
the  years  have  proved  him 
right.  Lincoln  today  is  the 
greatest  and  the  livest  figure 
in  our  history.  Around  him 
Mr.  Bacheller  has  woven  his 
story,  around  him  he  has 
placed  a  great  cast  of  charac- 
ters— sturdy  pioneers,  men 
and  women,  young  and  old, 
black  and  white,  rough  and 
gentle,  wayward  and  upright 
— among  whom  Honest  Abe 
walks  with  lifted  head  his  ap- 
pointed way — slowly,  steadily 
out  of  obscurity  into  the  great 
white  light  that  beats  about  the 
born  leader.  Jl  Man  for  the 
j4ges  is  a  wonderfully  beauti- 
ful and  moving  story  in  which 
we  are  given  a  full  view  of 
the  heart  and  soul  of  the  great 
Emancipator.  Lincoln  is  so 
alive  with  his  own  great  and 
beneficent  humanity  in  this  tale 
—  ambition,  wisdom,  humor, 
shrewdness,  charity  —  its 
many  characters  are  so  real 
and  convincing  that  any 
attempt  to  epitomize  the  book 
is  hopeless. 

Jl  Man  for  the  j4ges  is  a  piece 
of  literature  in  which  the 
interest  never  falters. 


Alt    +U«    Tfl++^o    W^^o^o     -EP  GEORGE  AGNEW 

All  the  Jving  S  rlorses       CHAMBERLAIN 

Mr.  Chamberlain  was  until  very  recently  Consul-General  of  the  United  States  at  Maxico 
City  and  this  novel  is  based  on  facts. 

Cloth,  12  mo.     PRICE  #1.75. 


The  Passionate  Pilgrim 

Author  of  the  Honey  Bee,  Henry  Is  Twenty,  etc.,  etc. 

"Samuel  Merwin  aims   to  tell  an  absorbing  story.     He  does.    He  gets  away  with  it 
absolutely."  —  New  York  Sun. 

Cloth,  12  mo,  Illustrated  by  Stockton  Mulford.     PRICE  #1.75  NET. 

Leave  it  to  Doris  HU™N 

Author  of  Prudence  of  the  Parsonage,  Prudence  Says  So,  Sunny  Slopes,  etc. 
When  you  say  that  Ethel  Hueston's  new  story  is  better  than  her  Prudence  of  the  Parsonage, 
you  have  said  something. 

Illustrated  by  W.  B.  King.     #1.50  NET. 


The  Ivory  Trail 

Author  of  King  of  the  Khyber  Rifles,  Winds  of  the  World,  etc. 

A  thrilling  adventure  story  in  the  African  Jungle  of  the  search  for  Tippoo  Tib's  treasure, 
worth  #200,000,000. 

Cloth,  12mo,  Illustrated  by  Joseph  Clement  Coll.     PRICE  #1.75  NET. 

Life  Can  Never  Be  the  Same  MAXWELL 

Author  of  The  Devil's  Garden,  The  Mirror  and  the  Lamp,  etc. 

Stories  of  the  war  at  home  and  in  the  trenches,  told  in  swift,  vivid  language  and  bursting 
with  actuality.  Cloth,  12mo.     PRICE  #1.75  NET. 

Spanish  Doubloons  ^CAMILLA 

h  for  pirate  treasure,  led  by  a  show-me  An 
ense  of  humor. 
Cloth,  12mo,  Illustrated  by  Louis  Rogers.     PRICE  #1.50  NET. 


A  1919  search  for  pirate  treasure,  led  by  a  show-me  American  girl  with  a  rollicking  and 
uncontrollable  sense  of  humor. 


C+^~K+,^r    By  JULIET  WILBOR 

Marling       TOMPKINS 

Author  of  The  Seed  of  the  Righteous,  A  Cjirl  Named  Mary,  etc. 

"One  of  those  tender,  human  books  that  keep  the  hearts  of  readers  warm  with  human 
understanding." — Philadelphia  Press. 

Cloth,  12mo,  Illustrated.      PRICE  #1.50  NET. 

Tlio  Rliio  Moon    ^>DAVID 
1  ne  JDiue  ivioon  ANDERSON 

A  romance  of  the  Wabash  flats,  crowded  with  action,  mystery  and  drama. 
PRICE  #1.60  NET. 


